Skip to main content

Full text of "Modern inventions & discoveries"

See other formats 


^y 


,A^ 


'<!■ 


■  .^^ 


■^-% 


"/-    V 


oo 


.^>:^-4;^:\;^^:^>- 


^^     V" 


.x-^ 


,y   s 


:< 


'.,"c 


o<S' 


'fj-    V* 


'     -0 


"^. 


'^'     .<\^ 


-^XC,^ 


,0     N    I'  t\ 


vV  <P, 


<^y  ^'.r.^     c  I 
^         '^-c^,  -. 


%    -^^ 


^^^   V^ 


,^.v-.:^ 


'^^   ^^ 


'•%.''<"  ). 


•^iS©    WONDERS  ^ 

■   CLTid    the    ' 

ACHIEVEMENTS 


NATURE 

OF    M-AN     . 


%mmmmmmmi'^  ^  ^^^  ^^  mmmm  i^im^  M'iwyi  «w  m  m^mmmmmim 


With  an  Introduction    by 
IRA  REMSEJ^,  Ph.D..  LL.D. 

-  LIST  OF  CONTRIBUTORS  - 
CHAR LES  R .  DARWIN        HERBERT  SPENCER 


THOMAS  H.HUXLEY 
LORD  AVEBURV^ 
RICHARD  A.  PROCTOR 
Sir  ARCHIBALD  GEIKIE 
JOHN  STUART  MILL 
SAMUEL  R  LANGLEY 
GEORGE  M  STERNBERG 
ROBSON  ROOSLMJ). 
HENRY  DESMAREST 
RAY  STANNARD  BAKER 


ALFRED  RUSSEL  WALLACE 
ERNST  HEINRICH  HAECKEL 
EDWARD  B.TYLOR 
ADOLPHECANOT-S 
JOHN  TYNDALL  T 
GEORGE  ILES  Tl  "S 
LELAND  O.HOWARD 
Sir  JAMES  PAGET. M.D 
W.  STANLEY  JEVONS 
CLEVELAND  MOFFETI 


CLARENCE  LUDLOW  BROWNELL 
&  OTHERS 


HJLL   AND    COMPANY 

7>  C/BI./iSJJ^£Jt*S 


LiDnnnY  of  C 

yi'Jisr.'Liic; 

Two  CopiS5 

ficceived 

NOV    19 

JJ^U4 

CLASS     <^   XXc.  Noi 
COPY    B. 

Copyright,   1904 

BY 

J.  A.  HILL  «&  COMPANY 


By 


Ray  Stannard  Baker 
Samuel  P.  Langley 
Eugene  P.  Lyle 
Alfred  Russel  Wallace 
George  M.  Sternberg 


Ira  Remsen 
Ludlow  Browne!! 
Sir  James  Paget,  M.D. 
Leiand  O.  Howard 
W.  Stanley  Jevons 


and  Otiiers 


€liition  He  Eurc 


NEW     YORK 

J.  A.  HILL  AND  COMPANY 

MCMIV 


it 


Copyright  1904,  by  J.  A.  Hill  &  Company 
Copyright  1899,  by  Doubleday  &  McClure  Company 
Copyright  1897,  by  S.  S.  McCIure  Company 
Copyright  1901,  by  Everybody's  Magazine 
Copyright  1903,  by  S.  S.  McClure  Company 
Copyright  1903,  by  McClure,  Phillips  &  Company 
Copyright  1901,  by  S.  S.  McClure  Company 
Copyright  1901,  by  Cassier's  Magazine 
Copyright  1904,  by  Review  of  Reviews  Company 


o 


s^r 


CONTENTS 


STORY  OF  THE  PHONOGRAPH,  by  Ray  Stannaed  Baker. 

PAGE 

Scott's  Phonautograph  —  Edison's  experiments  and  inventions — 
Kreusi's  model  —  Alex.  Graham  Bell's  work  —  The  Graphophone 
—  Invention  of  Charles  Gros  —  The  Gramophone  —  Bettini's  im- 
provement on  diaphragms  —  Phonographic  buoys  —  Union  of 
Phonograph  and  Kinetoscope.     .         .         .         .         .         .         .1 

AERIAL   NAVIGATION. 

Problem  of  human  flight  —  Early  experiments  —  Origin  of  balloon 
idea  —  Fire-balloons  —  First  balloon  ascension  —  Navigable  bal- 
loons or  air-ships  —  Santos-Dumont  —  Langley's  investigations  — 
Laws  of  flight  —  Lilienthal's  machine  —  Aeroplanes  of  Chanute  — 
The  Prospect 14 

THE  LANGLEY  AERODROME,  by  Samuel  P.  Langley. 

Flying  machines — Need  of  Speed  —  Pinaud's  machine  —  Experi- 
mental motors  —  Trials  of  machines  —  Construction  of  the  Aero- 
drome —  Prof.  Bell's  account  of  a  flight         .         .         .         .         .40 

CIRCLING  THE  EIFFEL  TOWER,  by  Eugene  P.  Lyle,  Jr. 

Santos-Dumont's  air-ship  —  The  Grand  Prix  —  Trials  and  success  — 
Description  and  plans  —  The  Deutsch  prize  —  Petroleum  motors  — 
Editorial  note .63 

THE  STORY  OF  RADIUIM,  by  CLE^T:LATNrD  INIoefett. 

M.  and  Mme.  Curie  —  Radium  works  near  Paris  —  Process  of  manu- 
facture —  Pestructiveness  of  Radium  —  Heat  and  light  —  Cost  — 
Emanations  —  Radio-Activity  —  Effect  of  heat  on  Radium  — 
Effect  of  Radium  on  animal  life     .......     84 


iv  •  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

ABSOLUTE   COLD,  by  Heney  Desmarest         .  .  .  .102 

LIQUID  AIR,  BY  Ray  Stannard  Baker 112 

THE  HOTTEST  HEAT,  by  Ray  Standard  Baker         .         .         .122 

UNSOLVED  PROBLEMS  OF  CHEMISTRY,  by  Ira  Remsen. 

The  elements  —  Chemical  change  the  beginning  of  life  —  Fats  — 
Carbohydrates  —  Starch  —  Wood-paper  —  Proteids  —  Proto- 
plasm —  Functions  of  Chemistry  —  Atoms  —  Water       .         .         .  136 

THE    EXACT    MEASUREMENT    OF    PHENOMENA, 
by  W.  Stanley  Jevoists. 

Instruments  of  precision  —  The  balance  —  Light  —  Temperature  — 
Incommensurable  quantities  —  Quantity,  conception  of  —  Com- 
plexty  of  questions  of  science  —  Essentials  of  accuracy  —  Modes  of 
measurement  —  Standard    machines 150 

UNITS   AND   STANDARDS   OF   MEASUREMENT, 
by  W.  Stanley  Jevons. 
Magnitudes  —  Time  —  Space  —  Energy  —  Density  —  Unit     of    mass 
—  Natural   system   of  standards  —  Velocity  —  Gravity  —  Light  — 
Heat  —  Theory  of  dimensions  —  Principle  of  homogeneity  —  Con- 
stant   numbers 181 

THE  METRIC  SYSTEM,  by  Alexander  Har\'ey. 

Origins  of  weights  and  measures  —  Seeds  —  Chaldea  the  source  of 
weights  and  measures  —  Anglo-Saxon  usage  —  Mediaeval  inter- 
ferences with  standards  —  English  standards  —  Troy  weight  — 
Genesis  of  metric  system  —  Tables  —  Equivalents    ....  207 

MAN'S  PLACE  IN  THE  UNIVERSE,  by  Alfred  Russel  Wallace. 

Earth's  importance  to  early  astronomers  —  The  wider  views  of  later 
days  — Their  bearing  on  theological  questions  —  Are  the  stars  in- 
finite in  number?  —  Distribution  of  stars  in  space  —  The  Galaxy  or 
Milky  Way  —  Star  clusters  —  The  earth  as  adapted  for  life      .       .  219 

THE  SPECTROSCOPE,  by  Newell  Dunbar. 

Invented  (1802)  — Description  —  Results  of  its  use  —  Varieties  — 
The  Spectroscope  in  astronomy  —  In  practical  life        .         .         .  238 


CONTENTS  V 

PAGE 

LIFE  IN  THE  DEEP  SEA        .         .         .         .         .         .        .        .250 

UTILIZING  THE  SUN'S  ENERGY,  by  R.  H.  Thurston. 

The  problem  stated  —  Experiments  —  Wasted  energy  of  desert  re- 
gions—  Probable  amount  of  the  sun's  energy         ....  271 

WONDER-WORKING  INVENTIONS,  by  Alexander  Harvey. 

Most  important  inventions  —  How  the  cotton-gin  established  the 
South  —  Sewing-Machines — Goodyear's  conquest  of  India  rubber 
—  McCormick's  reaper  wins  the  West  —  Hoe  saves  the  great  daily 
newspaper  —  The  type-setting  machine  —  The  typewriter     .      .      .  281 

THE  STEAM  TURBINE,   by  Arthur  Warren. 

The  principle  of  the  machine  —  Introduced  by  C.  A.  Parsons  —  Im- 
proved by  C.  G.  Curtis  —  De  Laval  type  —  Advantages  —  Per- 
formances —  Comparative  size  and  cost    ......  309 


EVOLUTION  OF  THE  AUTOMOBILE,  by  Charles  Welsh. 

Mother  Shipton's  prophecy  —  Cugnot's  machine  —  Early  attempts  — 
Restrictive  legislation  —  Recent  advance 320 

AN  ELECTRICAL  STORM  INDICATOR,  by  Eugene  P.  Lyle,  Jr.  328 

WHEN   EARTHQUAKES    WRITE   THEIR  AUTOGRAPHS, 
BY  Ludlow  Brownell. 
Professor    John    Milne's    observatory  —  Machinery    of  —  Japan,    an 
earthquake  country  —  Shide  earthquake    station  —  Earthquake  au- 
tographs       336 

HINTS  TO  INVENTORS,  by  F.  P.  Coleman. 

Unsolved  problems  in  mechanics  —  A  rotary  steam  engine  —  Waste 
of  coal  —  Utilization  of  water  powers  —  Wireless  telegraphy  —  Re- 
storing worn-out  fields  —  Waste  products  —  Minor  problems     .     .  349 

LOUIS  PASTEUR  AND  HIS  WORK,  by  Patrick  Geddes 
and  G.  a.  Thompson. 
Studies     on     microbes  —  Ferments  —  Spontaneous  generation  —  Dis- 
eases —  Beer  —  Bacillus  —  Fowl  cholera  —  Inoculation  —  Hydro- 
phobia —  Summary  of  his  work ,         .  361 


CONTENTS  vi 

PAGE 

THE  DISCOVERY  OF  ANESTHETICS,  by  Sir  James  Paget. 

Researches  of  Humphry  Davj^  —  Nitrous  oxide  —  Colton  —  Willis  — 
Riggs  —  Sulphuric  ether  —  First  operation  under  —  Ether  in  child- 
birth          376 

THE  ART  OF  PROLONGING  LIFE,  by  Robson  Roose. 

Short  life,  not  necessary  —  The  problem  of  longevity  —  Natural 
duration  of  life  —  Old  age  —  Aids  to  longevity  —  Inherited  health 

—  Occupation  —  Exercise  —  Food  —  Sleep  —  Warmth  —  Clean- 
liness—  Old  age- as  an  incurable  disease 384 

THE  FIGHT  AGAINST  CONSUMPTION,  by  Newell  Dunbar. 

Consumption  the  king  of  maladies  —  Contagiousness  of  —  Cause  of  — 
Tubercle  bacillus  —  State  regulations  —  Cures         ....  406 

MALARIA  AND  MOSQUITOES,  by  Dr.  George  M.  Sternberg. 

Discovery  of  .the  malarial  parasite  —  Anopheles  —  Prevention  and 
cure  of  malaria 418 

FIGHTING  PESTS  WITH  INSECT  ALLIES,  by  Leland  O.  Howard. 

Work  of  C.  V.  Riley  —  The  scale  insect  —  The  Australian  ladybird 

—  Black  scale  —  Diseases  of  injurious  insects  —  The  fig  insect     .  433 

THE  GREATEST  DISCOVERY  OF  THE  AGE,  by  Robert 
Routledge. 

The  amount  of  energy  in  the  universe  is  constant         ....  443 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  PHONOGRAPH. 

By  RAY  STANNARD  BAKER. 

THIS  is  the  wonder  of  the  phonograph:  it  is  a  machine 
which  makes  pictures  of  sounds,  and  then,  at  will, 
changes  these  pictures  back  into  sounds  again.  A  pic- 
ture of  a  matchless  solo  by  Melba  is  made  in  Paris  on  a  little 
wax  cylinder;  the  cylinder  is  sent  through  the  mails  to  Xew 
York  like  any  other  picture,  here  to  be  transformed  again  into 
the  voice  of  Melba,  repeating  all  the  sweetness  and  richness  of 


Scott's  Phonautogbaph. 

The  First  Suggestion  of  a  Talking  Machine,  in  Which  the  Sound  Pic- 
tures were  scratched  on  a  Cylinder  Covered  with  Lampblack,  by  Means 
of  a  Hog's  Bristle. 

the  original  tones.  The  voice  of  Nicolini,  preserved  in  pictures, 
still  sings,  although  the  singer  himself  is  dead.  And  this  is 
something  hard  to  realize,  even  at  this  day  when  the  phonograph 
has  become  almost  as  familiar  as  the  sewing-machine. 

1 


2  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

Every  man  has  in  his  throat  a  delicate  membrane  which  is  set 
to  quivering  every  time  he  speaks.  The  vibrations  thus  pro- 
duced in  turn  set  the  air  to  quivering,  and  these  waves  roll 
through  space,  very  much  like  the  waves  on  the  seashore,  until 
they  strike  on  the  drum  or  membrane  of  the  ear.  That  is  the 
way  we  hear;  it  is  nature's  telephone.  If  the  vibrations  are 
rapid  we  say  that  the  voice  is  high;  if  slow,  we  say  that  it  is 
deep.     Each  note  has  its  own  different  vibrations. 

Away  back  in  1S511  Leon  Scott,  knowing  these  simple  facts  in 
physics,  conceived  the  idea  of  making  sounds  produce  pictures. 
It  was  an  idea  as  original  as  it  was  bold.  In  the  experiments 
which  followed,  Scott  constructed  a  curious  little  device  called 
the  Phonautograph,  which  vividly  foreshadowed  a  part  of  the 
operation  of  the  phonograph.  It  consisted  of  a  thin  mem- 
brane—  a  bit  of  bladder  —  stretched  tightly  over  a  barrel- 
shaped  frame.  In  the  center  of  this  membrane  a  stiff  hog's 
bristle  was  firmly  fastened.  On  speaking  with  the  lips  close 
to  the  outer  end  of  the  frame  the  membrane  vibrated  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  sound  waves  thus  produced,  the  bristle  moved 
back  and  forth  and  scratched  a  continuous  wavy  track  on  a 
revolving  cylinder  which  had  been  well  daubed  with  lampblack. 
This  wavy  line  was  an  actual  picture  of  the  human  voice.  But 
it  was  a  mere  laboratory  experiment,  and  no  one  even  dreamed 
that  such  a  sound  picture  could  be  again  transformed  into 
speech  —  until  the  idea  came  to  Thomas  A.  Edison  with  the 
suddenness  of  inspiration. 

It  was  in  1877,  long  before  Edison  had  become  widely  fa- 
mous. At  that  time  his  experiments  were  carried  on  in  a  shop 
in  Newark,  New  Jersey,  where  he  was  surrounded  with  a  little 
company  of  trusted  workmen.  It  was  at  the  time  when  Edison 
often  became  so  absorbed  in  his  schemes  for  inventions  that  he 
forgot  his  meals,  and  frequently  worked  night  and  day  for 
two  or  three  days  together,  keeping  all  of  those  about  him  as 
busy  as  he  was  himself.  Sometimes  he  would  call  in  an  organ- 
grinder  to  keep  the  men  awake  and  cheerful  until  the  strain 
was  over,  and  then  he  would  hire  a  boat  and  take  all  hands 
down  the  bay  with  him  on  a  fishing  excursion.  It  was  with  this 
singleness  of  purpose  and  loyalty  that  Edison  and  his  men 
always  worked  together. 

Not  long  ago  I  visited  Edison's  great  laboratory  at  Orange, 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  PHONOGRAPH 


New  Jersey,  where  more  than  seven  hundred  men  are  em- 
ployed in  coining  the  visions  of  the  master's  brain.  I  found 
Edison  himself  sitting  in  one  of  his  characteristic  positions,  half 
leaning  upon  a  table  filled  with  drawings,  his  head  on  his 
hand  and  his  fingers  thrust  through  his  hair.     He  told  me 


Edison's  First  Phonograph. 

briefly  how  he  came  to  invent  the  phonograph,  and  his  story 
was  later  much  extended  by  John  Ott,  who  was  with  him 
through  all  of  the  experiments. 

The  inventor  had  been  working  during  the  early  part  of  the 
year  1877  in  developing  and  improving  the  telephone,  inventing 
the  transmitter  which  has  since  borne  his  name.  This  consisted 
of  a  disk  of  carbon,  having  a  sharp-pointed  pin  on  the  back  of 
it.  He  had  noticed  many  times  that  when  he  spoke  against  the 
face  of  the  disk  the  vibrations  would  cause  the  pin  to  prick  his 
fingers  or  to  indent  any  soft  substances  held  near  it.  This  was 
one  fact;  he  carried  it  in  mind,  but  it  gave  him  no  particular 
suggestion.  It  was,  indeed,  only  a  step  beyond  Scott's  dis- 
covery. 

Previous  to  this  time  Edison  had  invented  a  remarkable  de- 
vice for  the  automatic  repetition  of  telegraph  messages.  It 
consisted  of  a  simple  apparatus  by  means  of  which  the  dots  and 
dashes  of  the  original  message  were  recorded  in  a  series  of 
indentations  on  a  long,  narrow  strip  of  paper.  This  record 
could  be  fed  into  a  sending  machine  and  the  message  re-trans- 
mitted without  the  service  'of  an  operator.  In  other  words, 
Edison  had  made  pictures  on  paper  of  the  sounds  communi- 
cated over  the  telegraph  wires,  thereby  approaching  the  phono- 
graph from  another  direction. 

'^In  manipulating  this  machine,"  Edison  wrote  in  1888,  "I 


4  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

found  that  when  the  cylinder  carrjdng  the  indented  paper  was 
turned  with  great  swiftness  it  gave  off  a  humming  noise  from 
the  indentations  —  a  musical,  rhytlmiic  sound,  resembling  that 
of  human  talk  heard  indistinctly/^ 

Here  was  another  fact  —  unconnected  as  yet,  but  exceedingly 
important  as  pointing  to  the  great  discovery. 

"I  remember/'  John  Ott  told  me,  "that  Edison  had  been 
working  at  his  bench  in  the  laboratory  nearly  all  day,  silent  for 


Cross  Section  of  Edison's  First  Phonograph,  Showing  Method  of  Oper- 
ation. 


the  most  part.  Quite  suddenly  he  jumped  up  and  said  with 
some  excitement :  '  By  George,  I  can  make  a  talking  machine  ! ' 
Then  he  sat  down  again  and  drew  the  designs  of  his  proposed 
machine  on  a  slip  of  yellow  paper.  •  I  don't  think  it  took  him 
above  ten  minutes  altogether." 


RAY  STANNARD  BAKER. 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  PHONOGRAPH  5 

On  the  margin  of  that  design  Edison  marked  ^^$8/'  and 
handed  it  to  his  foreman,  John  Kruesi. 

"  My  men  all  worked  by  the  piece  in  those  days,"  Mr.  Edison 
told  me,  "and  when  I  wanted  a  model  made  I  always  marked 
the  price  on  it.  In  this  case  it  was  $8,  I  remember.  Kruesi 
went  to  work  at  it  the  same  day,  and  I  think  he  had  it  com- 
pleted within  thirty-six  hours.  We  used  to  try  all  sorts  of 
things,  and  most  of  them  were  failures;  so  that  I  didn^t  expect 
much  from  the  new  model,  at  least  at  first,  although  I  knew  it 
was  correct  in  principle." 

But  Kruesi  fitted  the  tin-foil  on  the  cylinder,  and  brought 
the  machine  to  Mr.  Edison.  The  inventor  turned  the  handle 
and  spoke  into  the  mouthpiece : 

"  Mary  had  a  little  lamb, 

Its  fleece  was  white  as  snow, 
And  everywhere  that  Mary  went 
The  lamb  was  sure  to  go." 

Then  he  set  the  recorder  back  to  the  starting-place  and  began 
to  turn  the  cylinder.  At  the  very  best  he  had  not  expected  to 
hear  more  than  a  burring  confusion  of  sounds,  but  to  his  aston- 
ishment and  awe  the  machine  began  to  repeat  in  a  curious, 
metallic,  distant  voice: 

"  Mary  had  a  little  lamb    .     .     ." 

And  thus  the  first  words  ever  spoken  by  a  phonograph  were 
the  four  simple  lines  of  Mother  Goose's  melody.  The  idea  had 
come  to  the  inventor  with  a  flash  of  inspiration,  and  the 
machine  had  proved  its  marvelous  possibilities  on  the  first  trial. 
Few  inventions  ever  have  been  conceived  and  carried  to  success 
so  swiftly.  Kruesi's  eight-dollar  machine,  which  could  not 
now  be  bought  for  hundreds,  is  in  the  patent  museum  at  South 
Kensington,  London. 

The  first  machine,  although  it  talked,  was  a  very  crude  afiair 
compared  with  the  all  but  perfect  phonographs  of  to-day.  In 
principle  it  was  exceedingly  simple.  There  was  a  diaphragm 
or  membrane,  having  a  sharp-pointed  pin  attached  to  its  under 
surface.  When  sound  waves,  caused  by  a  spoken  word  or  a 
piece  of  music,  struck  this  diaphragm,  it  vibrated,  and  the 
pin  rose  up  and  down.     The  cylinder  on  which  the  sound  pic- 


6 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


tures  or  records  were  to  be  made  was  covered  with  tin-foil. 
At  every  vibration  of  the  pin,  indentations  of  various  depths 
were  made  in  this  tin-foil.  These  little  holes  were  so  small 
as  to  be  scarcety  visible  to  the  naked  eye,  but  when  the  dia- 


Making  a  Record  on  One  of  the  Early  Forms  of  the  Graphophone. 


Showing   How  the   Record   is   Engraved   on   the   Wax   Cylinder  —  Much 

Enlarged. 

phragm  was  set  back  to  the  beginning  and  the  cylinder  was 
turned,  the  pin,  traveling  up  and  down  over  the  rough  road 
of  indentations,  caused  the  diaphragm  to  vibrate  and  give  out 
the  same  sounds  which  had  been  previously  spoken  into  it.  A 
reference  to  the  pictures  on  pages  3  and  4  will  show  clearly 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  PHONOGRAPH  7 

just  how  the  machine  worked.  A  is  the  plate  or  diaphragm, 
1-100  of  an  inch  thick,  which  vibrated  when  spoken  against, 
driving  the  point  P  into  the  cylinder  C  F  is  the  mouthpiece, 
and  D  the  crank  by  means  of  which  the  cylinder  was  turned. 

Few  inventions  ever  awakened  a  world-wide  interest  more 
suddenly  than  did  this  of  the  phonograph.  When  it  was  first 
exhibited  in  the  "  Tribune  "  building  in  New  York,  every  scien- 
tific paper,  every  magazine,  and  every  newspaper  in  this  and 
in  foreign  countries  gave  accounts  of  the  invention,  and  dealt 
with  its  dizzying  possibilities.  Edison  himself  wrote  an  article 
for  the  "  N'orth  American  Eeview,"  in  which  he  told  of  some 
of  the  marvelous  uses  to  which  the  machine  would  be  put  in 
the  future. 

Edison  patented  his  invention  both  in  the  United  States  and 
abroad,  and  manufactured  a  considerable  number  of  machines, 
chiefly  for  use  in  college  laboratories.  Then  he  became  deeply 
interested  in  a  series  of  experiments  with  incandescent  electric 
lights,  and  the  phonograph  dropped  out  of  his  mind  for  many 
years. 

In  the  meantime  Alexander  Graham  Bell,  the  inventor  of 
the  telephone,  had  received  the  most  distinguished  honor  that 
can  come  to  an  inventor  —  France  had  bestowed  upon  him  the 
Volta  prize,  an  honor  instituted  by  Emperor  Napoleon  the 
Great.  It  had  been  awarded  only  once  before  —  to  Faraday 
—  and  it  has  never  been  awarded  since.  With  the  money 
portion  of  the  prize,  amounting  to  50,000  francs,  Mr.  Bell  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  forming  an  association  for  the  advancement 
of  the  science  of  sound.  To  this  association,  composed  of  him- 
self. Dr.  Chichester  A.  Bell,  and  Charles  Sumner  Tainter,  he 
gave  the  name  "Volta  Laboratory  Association.-"  From  1881 
to  1885  these  three  men  labored  hard  upon  improvements  in 
the  method  of  recording  and  reproducing  sound,  finally  pro- 
ducing a  machine  differing  from  Mr.  Edison^s  in  that  it  en^ 
graved  the  sound  pictures  on  a  cylinder  of  wax  instead  of 
indenting  them  on  tin-foil,  a  very  great  and  important  change, 
which  enabled  them  to  reproduce  speech  and  music  in  a 
wonderfully  life-like  manner.  This  machine  was  called  the 
grapliophone. 

Another  machine,  the  gramophone,  was  invented  by  Charles 
Cros,  a  Frenchman.     In  this  device  the  record  is  scratched  on 


8 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


a  metal  cylinder  which  has  first  been  daubed  with  a  waxy  sub- 
stance. The  cylinder  is  then  taken  out  and  immersed  in  acid. 
Where  the  recording  stylus  has  scratched  the  wax  away  there 
the  acid  does  its  work,  etching  in  the  solid  metal  the  wavy 
sound  pictures  left  by  the  stylus.  The  sounds  are  then  repro- 
duced as  in  the  other  machines. 

In  later  years  Mr.  Edison  and  Mr.  Bell  have  made  many 
improvements  in  the  talking  machine  until  it  has  reached  its 
present  perfected  state. 

Other  important  additions  have  been  made  by  Lieutenant 
G.  Bettini.     Bettini  discovered  that  all  parts  of  the  glass  dia- 


J^^pfoduc^f  Kec.or'dei' 

BETTiisn   Spider  Diaphragm  Attachment. 
For  Making  and  Reproducing  Difficult  Records. 

phragm  used  by  Mr.  Edison  did  not  vibrate  equally  when 
spoken  against.  Eor  instance,  the  center  might  vilarate  at  one 
speed  and  the  sides  at  another,  thereby  producing  the  peculiar 
metallic  or  ^^  tinny  ^^  effect  which  makes  many  phonograph 
records  disagreeable.  Consequently,  instead  of  attaching  the 
recording  point  directly  and  firmly  to  the  center  of  the  dia- 
phragm, Bettini  used  what  he  called  a  "  spider ''  —  a  little 
frame  having  several  legs,  the  feet  of  which  rested  against  the 
diaphragm  at  many  different  points,  thereby  making  the  dia- 
phragm sensitive  to  every  variety  of  sound,  even  high  soprano 
voices,  which  have  been  exceedingly  difficult  to  record.  Bettini 
uses  a  diaphragm  of  aluminum  instead  of  glass. 

The  sound  pictures  or  records  of  the  phonograph  are  now 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  PHONOGRAPH  9 

engraved  on  a  wax  cylinder  with  a  fine  stylus,  the  point  of 
which  is  a  bit  of  sapphire.  After  one  record  is  made  it  can  be 
readily  duplicated.  The  old-fashioned  ear  tubes  are  giving 
way  to  horns,  which  bring  out  the  sound  more  distinctly,  and 
distribute  it  over  a  whole  room.  When  one  record  is  worn  out 
—  and  it  can  often  be  used  more  than  a  hundred  times  —  the 
wax  is  shaved  down  and  the  cylinder  is  ready  for  another  im- 
pression. Most  of  the  modern  talking  machines  are  operated 
by  clock-work,  although  some  are  fitted  to  run  by  electrical 
power,  or  even  by  foot-power  like  a  sewing-machine.  The 
prices  vary  from  five  dollars  well  up  beyond  a  hundred  dollars. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  things  in  connection  with  the 
phonograph  is  the  new  profession  of  record-making  —  for  a 
real  profession  it  is.  At  Mr.  Edison's  laboratory  in  Orange, 
New  Jersey,  a  whole  building  is  devoted  to  the  production  of 
singing  cylinders,  instrumental  music,  band  music,  solo,  and 
speaking  cylinders.  A  curious  and  wonderful  place  it  is.  In 
one  little  room  shut  off  from  all  the  others  by  tight  doors  I  saw 
a  man  seated  on  a  tall  stool.  He  was  talking  and  laughing 
uproariously  in  Yankee  dialect  into  the  flaring  end  of  a  long 
tin  tube.  At  the  other  end  of  this  tube  there  was  a  phonograph 
with  a  boy  about  twelve  years  old  watching  the  C3dinder  to  see 
that  the  stylus  was  doing  its  work.  The  speaker,  who  had  his 
coat  off  and  was  perspiring  profusely,  would  first  announce  him- 
self:   "A   humorous   sketch,   entitled   *^ Uncle   Eben   in  Fifth 

Avenue,^  by  the  well-known  comedian  ,"  and  then  he 

would  begin  his  talk  with  no  audience  but  the  tin  tube  and 
the  boy,  who  looked  vastly  bored.  In  another  room  there  were 
several  phonographs  placed  close  together  on  a  shelf,  with  their 
horns  grouped  around  a  slim  young  man,  who  was  playing 
a  lively  jig  on  a  banjo.  Close  behind  him  loomed  the  back  of 
a  piano,  upon  which  a  companion  was  playing  an  accompani- 
ment. In  still  another  room  two  men  and  a  woman  were  sing- 
ing a  church  anthem  into  the  receiving  horn  of  a  phonograph. 
Their  heads  were  close  together,  and  both  the  men  had  their 
coats  off,  it  being  a  hot  day.  Behind  them  on  a  pair  of  saw- 
horses  stood  a  piano,  which  was  being  played  with  the  utmost 
unconcern.  If  I  had  closed  my  eyes  I  certainly  should  have 
thought  that  I  was  sitting  in  a  church,  and  that  the  anthem  Vv^as 
coming  from  the  choir  loft.     When  a  record  is  finished  it  is  taken 


10  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

out  and  repeated  to  see  if  it  is  correct,  and  the  players  or  talkers 
gather  around  to  hear  their  own  words.  If  the  cylinder  is  a 
success  it  is  duplicated  many  times,  and  placed  in  the  regular 
library  of  the  phonograph,  ready  to  go  out  to  the  users  of  the 
machines  in  different  parts  of  the  country. 

And  yet  records  of  this  sort  are  not  always  successful.  Not 
every  one  can  make  a  first-class  phonograph  record.  Some 
there  are  whose  voices  are  too  soft  to  make  distinct  impres- 
sions in  the  wax.  The  best  voice  is  one  that  is  almost  metallic 
in  its  timbre  —  even  harsh  and  hard.  For  the  same  reason  a 
cornet  makes  a  far  better  record  than  a  guitar;  a  piano,  from 
its  sharp  and  ringing  tones,  is  better  than  a  violin.  In  this 
way  the  phonograph  has  developed  its  own  especial  singers  and 
pla3^ers.  Some  soloists  and  talkers,  who  have  never  been  able 
to  make  a  success  on  the  stage,  have  earned  a  peculiar  and 
valuable  reputation  of  their  own  among  the  users  of  phon- 
ographs. They  may  be  as  awkward  as  they  please  or  as  un- 
prepossessing of  manner  or  of  face  —  if  only  they  sing  so 
that  their  voices  come  out  clearly  and  beautifully  from  the  little 
wax  cylinders,  their  fame  is  made.  And  some  of  these  singers 
and  players  earn  very  large  sums  of  money.  They  receive,  in 
general,  one  dollar  for  every  song  they  sing  or  every  "  piece  ^' 
they  speak,  and  they  often  make  from  twenty  to  fifty  records 
in  a  day. 

In  Mr.  .  Bettini^s  studio  more  attention  is  given  to  voice 
records  of  famous  men  and  women.  Here  Sarah  Bernhardt 
came  and  talked  into  the  phonograph,  and  here  Campanari, 
Ancona,  Plangon,  and  other  singers  equally  famous,  have  sung. 
Here,  too,  you  may  hear  the  voice  of  Mark  Twain  talking  out 
with  beautiful  distinctness.  Indeed,  through  this  means,  a 
famous  man's  voice  may  become  as  familiar  as  his  picture,  and . 
it  may  go  on  talking  and  giving  pleasure  to  the  world  long 
after  the  man  himself  is  dead. 

Eecently  a  phonograph  with  a  large-sized  C3dinder  has  been 
constructed  for  making  unusually  clear  records.  This  improve- 
ment was  suggested  by  Thomas  H.  McDonald,  and  one  wonders 
that  no  one  thought  of  trying  it  before,  since  the  principle  of 
the  improvement  is  simplicity  itself.  The  surface  of  the  large 
cylinder  moves  much  more  rapidly  than  the  surface  of  the 
small  cylinder,  and  the  groove  cut  by  the  recording  stylus  is 


MHK 

0 
O 

3 

SI 

"  ^^^fe:  l||^-.: 

r?%  *^^pKi^:  f  ■I'M  fe 

Viimg^^^ 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  PHONOGRAPH  11 

miicli  longer.  That  is,  tlie  stylus,  instead  of  making  a  series 
of  abrupt  holes  in  the  wax,  as  it  does  when  the  cylinder  moves 
slowly,  scoops  out  long  hollows  with  sloping  ends.  There  being 
no  sharp  crests  or  holes  in  the  groove,  the  reproducing  ball 
follows  every  gradual  ascent  and  descent,  and  does  not  leap 
from  crest  to  crest,  blurring  the  sound,  as  in  the  case  of  some 
of  the  smaller  cylinders. 

This  new  style  of  cylinder  has  been  found  to  be  especially 
valuable  for  recording  the  music  of  a  full  brass  band  or  of  an 
orchestra,  and  some  exceedingly  fine  and  popular  records  of  this 
sort  have  recently  been  made.  But  of  all  phonograph  records, 
jolly  negro  and  comic  songs  are  the  most  popular.  Next  to 
them  come  instrumental  solos,  and  after  that  church  chimes, 
quartettes,  and  so  on.  Recently  a  set  of  cylinder  records  have 
been  made  to  play  dance  music,  and  at  the  same  time  to  call 
the  figures,  so  that  for  a  small  dancing  party  no  regular  musi- 
cians are  needed. 

Another  very  wonderful  development  of  the  phonograph 
which  is  now  in  course  of  evolution  is  the  reproduction  of 
entire  operas.  Xot  long  ago  Mr.  Edison  had  a  portion  of  the 
opera  of  "Martha^'  performed  before  one  of  his  kinetoscopes ; 
he  succeeded  in  taking  320  feet  of  pictures.  The  acting  of  the 
opera  can  now  be  thrown  in  lifelike  moving  pictures  on  a  screen, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  phonograph  may  sing  the  music  which 
goes  with  each  scene,  so  that  together  a  portion  of  the  opera 
will  be  completely  reproduced  —  a  marvel  which  could  not 
have  been  imagined  even  ten  years  ago. 

It  has  been  found  that  the  phonograph  will  "hear^^  and 
record  sounds  too  high  and  too  low  to  reach  the  human  ear. 
The  very  deepest  tones  to  which  our  ears  will  respond  have 
sixteen  vibrations  to  the  second,  whereas  the  phonograph  will 
record  down  to  ten  vibrations.  And  then,  more  wonderful 
than  all,  the  pitch  can  be  raised  until  we  hear  a  reproduction 
of  these  low  sound  waves  —  until  we  hear  the  unbearable. 

Within  the  last  few  years  the  phonograph  has  developed 
many  curious  and  important  uses.  It  has  been  employed  with 
success  as  a  teacher  of  languages.  It  reproduces  perfectly  the 
words  and  accents  of  a  foreign  tongue  so  that  a  student  may 
hear  the  difficult  inflection  repeated  over  and  over  until  he 
learns    it,    without    a   living   teacher.     Indeed,    whole    lessons, 


12  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

including  the  meanings  of  the  various  words  and  any  necessary 
explanations  can  be  talked  into  the  phonograph  without  the 
least  difficulty.  In  similar  manner  the  phonograph  has  been 
used  for  teaching  small  children  their  lessons,  and  in  one  case 
that  I  know  of  a  minister  actually  preaches  his  sermons  first 
into  a  phonograph  and  then  sits  back  and  listens  to  his  own 
words  as  if  he  were  a  member  of  the  congregation,  noting 
the  mistakes  in  delivery,  and  at  the  same  time  committing 
the  sermon  to  memory.  In  many  scores  of  business  offices  the 
phonograph  is  used  exclusively  for  purposes  of  dictation.  The 
machine  is  frequently  placed  in  a  drawer  of  the  desk,  so  that 
whenever  the  business  man  wishes  to  dictate  a  letter  he  merely 
opens  the  drawer,  starts  the  machine,  talks  as  long  as  he  wishes, 
and  then  stops  the  cylinder.  In  this  way  he  does  without  the 
services  of  a  stenographer.  At  any  time  during  the  day  the 
typewriter  girl  may  come  and  take  the  record  away,  place  it  in 
her  machine,  insert  the  tubes  in  her  ears,  and  copy  the  letters 
which  the  business  man  has  dictated.  In  this  way  both  may 
work  without  interruption.  Several  busy  men  in  New  York 
have  phonographs  in  their  offices  into  which  visitors  who  call 
during  their  absence  may  tell  of  their  errands.  A  phonograph 
in  a  restaurant  or  a  barber  shop  has  long  been  a  popular  attrac- 
tion, and  I  have  known  of  a  phonograph  being  used  by  a  news- 
paper writer  for  dictating  his  articles.  Two  St.  Louis  in- 
ventors have  recently  suggested  the  use  of  phonographs  in 
place  of  the  whistling  buoys  on  dangerous  shoals.  One  of 
these  inventors  says: 

"We  intend  to  place  one  of  our  phonograph  buoys  on  the 
noted  Kitty  Hawk  reef  at  the  mouth  of  the  Savannah  Eiver. 
At  present  a  bell  buoy  marks  that  dangerous  reef,  and  you 
know  the  action  of  the  waves  tolls  the  bell  of  the  buoy.  It  will 
doubtless  surprise  many  vessel  captains  to  hear  our  buoy,  with 
its. clear,  distinct  sound,  say,  ^I  am  Kitty  Hawk,  Kitty  Hawk,' 
and  they  will  hear  it  farther  than  they  can  hear  the  bell 
buoy.^' 

Many  years  ago  Mr.  Edison  suggested  the  use  of  phonographs 
for  recording  the  works  of  the  greatest  writers  of  fiction.  He 
himself  dictated  a  considerable  extract  of  "  Nicholas  Nickleby  '^ 
into  a  phonograph,  and  he  found  that  six  cylinders,  twelve 
inches  long  and  six  inches  in  diameter,  would  hold  the  entire 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  PHONOGRAPH  13 

novel.  Think  what  a  boon  such  records  would  be  to  a  blind 
man,  or,  indeed,  to  a  man  who  comes  home  with  worn-out  eyes 
from  a  long  day's  work  in  the  office.  The  phonograph  could 
talk  off  the  story  without  a  break,  and  if  it  had  been  dictated 
with  expression  and  spirit,  the  effect  would  be  that  of  listening 
to  a  good  elocutionist. 

And  thus  the  phonograph  has  become  a  great  factor  in  pro- 
moting the  pleasure  of  the  race  as  well  as  in  assisting  it  with 
its  work.  The  wonder  of  the  invention  —  a  machine  which  ' 
talks  like  a  man  —  is  yet  new  enough  to  make  us  feel  as  the 
famous  Emperor  Menelek  of  Abyssinia  did  when  he  first  heard 
the  phonograph.  After  the  recent  victory  in  the  Soudan, 
Queen  Victoria  spoke  a  message  of  friendship  and  good-will 
into  a  phonograph.  The  royal  words  were  delivered  one  Sun- 
day afternoon,  the  phonograph  working  perfectly.  The 
Queen^s  voice  was  produced  with  great  clearness,  and  Menelek 
insisted  upon  hearing  the  message  repeated  many  times.  First 
he  would  listen  to  it  as  it  came  from  the  trumpet,  then  he 
would  use  the  ear  tubes.  And  when  it  was  over  he  relapsed 
into  silence,  and  then  ordered  a  royal  salute  to  be  fired,  while 
he  stood  in  solemn  wonder  before  the  strange  machine  that 
talked. 


14  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


AERIAL  NAVIGATION. 

FROM  THE  EDINBURGH  REVIEW,  APRIL,   1903. 

THE  problem  of  human  flight  is  being  vigorously  attacked, 
and  there  seems  good  reason  for  hoping  that  the  twen- 
tieth century  will  see  its  more  or  less  complete  solution. 
The  great  interest  which  has  been  taken  in  the  work  of  the 
various  men  of  science  and  inventors  who  have  lately  given 
their  best  efforts  to  the  study  of  flight  has  made  their  names 
familiar  as  household  words  throughout  the  civilized  world. 
Several  bodies  have  been  founded  for  the  express  purpose  of 
unifying  effort  in  this  direction^  such  as  the  Aero  Club  of 
France,  the  Aeronautical  Institute  and  the  Aero  Club  in  our 
own  country.  Under  their  auspices  experiments  are  being 
undertaken,  and  discussions  conducted,  which  have  at  least 
the  merit  of  calling  public  attention  to  the  advances  made 
within  the  last  generation  towards  the  solution  of  one  of  the 
most  attractive  problems  that  mechanical  science  can  attack. 
Three  popular  books  lately  published  on  the  subject,  though 
not  well  written  and  far  from  scientiflc  in  method,  furnish 
an  appropriate  opportunity  for  taking  a  survey  of  the  history 
and  present  position  of  these  advances. 

The  possible  achievement  of  flight  has  always  been  a  stim- 
ulating prospect  for  mankind.  For  thousands  of  years  the 
hope  has  been  fondly  cherished,  though  only  within  the  hun- 
dred and  twenty  years  that  have  elapsed  since  the  discovery  of 
the  balloon  has  it  been  translated  into  practice.  The  winged 
horses  of  the  sun,  Juno's  peacocks,  Medea's  dragon  car, 
Pegasus,  the  flying  carpet  and  the  ebony  horse  of  the  ^  Arabian 
Nights,'  bear  witness  to  its  widely  spread  persistence.  Aryan 
mythology  is  full  of  tales  of  flying  men,  from  Daedalus  to  Peter 
Wilkins.  Anthropologists  tell  us  that  the  original  source  of 
the  familiar  nightmare,  in  which  most  of  us  have  known  the 
exciting  and  fearful  joys  of  dashing  through  the  air  and  sailing 


AERIAL  NAVIGATION  15 

down  aerial  switchbacks,  may  be  a  reminiscence  of  tliat  "  prob- 
ably arboreal "  ancestor  who  frisked  and  gamboled,  with  the 
help  of  a  prehensile  tail,  among  the  loftiest  boughs  of  the  pri- 
meval forest.  More  probably  —  for  even  the  youngest  of  sci- 
ences is  not  infallible  —  it  was  derived  from  an  envious  watch- 
ing of  the  condors  and  "  large  birds  of  prey  "  which  in  our  own 
times  gave  Lilienthal  his  inspiration.  The  semi-poetic  imagi- 
nation of  the  early  world  working  on  such  material  was  quite 
capable  of  endowing  man  in  fancy  with  the  powers  of  flight 
which  are  attributed  by  nearly  all  races  to  wizards  and  angels, 
and  which  science  now  promises  to  confer  on  the  ordinary  cit- 
izen at  no  very  distant  day. 

There  is  not  much  of  practical  value  to  be  learnt  from  the 
early  stories  of  flight  which  are  to  be  found  in  most  mythol- 
ogies, though  they  are  interesting  to  those  who  study  the  an- 
ticipation of  modern  discoveries  by  the  far-reaching  mind  of 
untutored  humanity.  Daedalus  was  apparently  the  first  man 
to  whom  the  invention  of  wings  was  attributed,  and  the  myth 
which  describes  his  flight  from  the  prison  of  Minos,  with  its 
unfortunate  results  for  the  high-flying  Icarus,  has  been  ration- 
alized into  a  comparatively  commonplace  tale.  As  Sir  Thomas 
Browne  suggests,  "'Twas  ground  enough  to  fancy  wings  unto 
Daedalus,  in  that  he  stole  out  of  a  window  from  Minos,  and 
sailed  away  with  his  son  Icarus ;  who,  steering  his  course  wisely, 
escaped,  but  his  son,  carrying  too  high  a  sail,  was  drowned.^' 
However  that  may  be,  one  can  hardly  look  for  much  scientific 
value  in  the  tale  of  the  wax-fastened  wings  of  the  Grecian  artist, 
or  in  the  representation  of  a  winged  man,  curiously  like  Lilien- 
thal in  his  soaring  apparatus,  which  is  to  be  seen  on  an  Egyp- 
tian bas-relief,  or  in  the  English  story  of  King  Bladud's  flight 
over  his  capital,  or  the  legend  of  Simon  the  Magician,  or  the 
countless  similar  tales  which  represent  little  more  than  man's 
dream  that  one  day  he  would  be  able  to  emulate  the  birds. 

Passing  from  these  mere  tales  of  imagination,  however,  one 
finds  that  the  history  of  human  ingenuity  records  a  series  of 
attempts  to  solve  the  problem  of  flight  which  carry  a  little  more 
weight.  What  we  have  recently  learnt  from  the  experiments 
of  Lilienthal,  Pilcher  and  Mr.  Chanute,  indeed,  may  incline  us 
to  attach  more  importance  to  these  fragmentary  records  than 
students  did  twenty  years  ago,  before  it  had  been  definitely 


16  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

shown  that  it  is  quite  possible  for  a  man  to  fly  for  hundreds  of 
yards  without '  the  aid  of  any  motor-power  beyond  what  is 
afforded  by  the  action  of  the  wind  on  properly  shaped  wings, 
or  (as  the  modern  aeronaut  prefers  to  call  them)  aeroplanes. 
The  records  all  agree  in  asserting  one  of  two  things:  either 
that  a  flying  model  was  constructed  which  supported  itself  in 
the  air  for  some  time,  or  that  a  man  contrived  to  fly  for  a  short 
distance,  and  usually  from  a  high  place.  We  know  nowadays 
that  both  achievements  are  perfectly  possible  without  any  great 
mechanical  skill  being  called  into  play.  The  first  was  shown 
to  be  feasible  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  by  Sir  George 
Cayley's  little  machine  constructed  of  cork  and  feathers,  with 
a  spring  of  twisted  India  rubber;  and  the  second  in  the  present 
generation  by  Lilienthal,  with  his  soaring  apparatus  of  wood 
and  canvas.  Thus  there  is  no  inherent  impossibility  in  the 
story  which  Aulus  Gellius  tells  about  Archytas  of  Tarentum, 
that  he  made  a  v/ooden  pigeon  which  flew  by  the  help  of  a 
certain  "  aura  spiritus  "  hidden  within  it.  We  need  not,  indeed, 
agree  with  those  who  see  in  the  last  clause  a  suggestion  that 
Archytas  had  discovered  how  to  make  hydrogen  two  thousand 
years  before  Cavendish,  and  that  his  pigeon  was  really  a  small 
balloon,  any  more  than  we  see  it  in  the  mediaeval  story  of  St. 
Eemy  about  enchanters  who  rose  to  the  sky  "by  means  of  an 
earthen  pot  in  which  a  little  imp  had  been  enclosed.^^  But  it 
is  quite  probable  that  the  pigeon  of  Archytas,  like  the  iron 
fly  of  Eegiomontanus  and  other  similar  inventions  of  which 
we  read,  was  an  anticipation  of  the  flying  model  of  Sir  George 
Cayley,  excogitated  from  a  careful  study  of  the  flight  of  birds. 
No  doubt  it  is  equally  possible  that,  as  Mr.  Bacon  skeptically 
suggests,  the  whole  thing  was  a  piece  of  trickery  of  the  kind  in 
which  Mr.  Maskelyne  excels,  and  that  the  conjurer's  friend  — 
a  black  silk  thread  —  was  the  only  imp  in  the  machine. 

It  is  more  difficult  to  dispose  of  the  numerous  tales  of  flying 
men  who  are  to  be  found  in  the  most  diverse  parts  of  ancient 
and  mediaeval  literature,  and  which  come  down  almost  to  the 
invention  of  the  balloon.  Most  of  these  are  circumstantially 
told  in  a  fashion  which  inclines  one  to  believe  that  the  unscien- 
tific chronicler  was  trying  to  describe  some  predecessor  of  Lil- 
ienthal. The  evidence  for  that  is  at  least  sufficient  to  incline 
us  to  suspense  of  judgment.     Some  of  these  flying  men,  in- 


AERIAL  NAVIGATION  17 

deed,  were  obviously  impostors,  or  at  best  self-deluders,  like 
the  Italian  charlatan  who  (according  to  Bishop  Lesley)  under- 
took to  fly  from  Scotland  to  France  in  the  reign  of  James  IV. 
'^  To  that  efiect/'  says  the  good  bishop,  "  he  caused  make  a  pair 
of  wings  of  feathers,  which,  being  fastened  upon  him,  he  flew 
off  the  castle  wall  of  Stirling,  but  shortly  he  fell  to  the  ground 
and  brake  his  thigh-bone.  But  the  blame  thereof  be  ascribed 
to  this,  that  there  were  some  hen  feathers  in  the  wings,  which 
yearned  for  and  coveted  the  midden  and  not  the  skies.'^  Other 
tales  are  less  easy  to  set  down  as  mere  figments  of  the  marvel- 
loving  chronicler,  or  as  the  tricks  of  a  conscious  humbug.  Bishop 
Wilkins,  the  famous  author  of  "  Mathematical  Magic,^^  in  which 
the  whole  question  of  flying  is  discussed  with  great  ingenuity, 
collected  •  various  instances  of  the  successful  use  of  wings.  "  It 
is  related  of  a  certain  English  monk,  called  Elmerus,  about  the 
Conqueror's  time,  that  he  did  by  such  wings  fly  from  a  tower 
about  a  furlong,  and  so  another  from  St.  Mark's  steeple  in 
Venice,  another  at  Norimberg;  and  Busbequius  speaks  of  a 
Turk  in  Constantinople  who  attempted  something  this  way.'' 
A  fairly  detailed  description  of  this  Turk's  flight,  which  took 
place  in  the  august  presence  of  the  Emperor  Manuel  Com- 
nenus,  has  been  preserved,  from  which  it  has  been  supposed 
that  he  actually  constructed  a  simple  aeroplane  of  the  kind 
used  by  Lilienthal,  which  would  enable  him  to  fly  some  distance 
from  the  top  of  a  tower  —  tobogganing  down  the  slope  of  the 
air,  so  to  speak.  It  is  quite  in  accordance  with  what  we  know 
of  the  conditions  of  such  a  flight  that  the  Turk  lost  his  balance, 
turned  over  and  fell  to  the  ground  before  his  flight  was  com- 
pleted ;  if  the  tale  had  been  a  mere  invention  it  would  have  been 
easy  and  natural  to  make  the  flight  a  complete  success. 

Later  stories  of  the  same  kind  are  still  more  acceptable.  In 
the  fifteenth  century  a  certain  Gianbattista  Dante,  of  Perugia, 
is  recorded  to  have  flown  several  times  across  Lake  Trasimene, 
until  one  of  his  wings  gave  way  and  he  fractured  his  thigh. 
In  1678  the  "Journal  des  Savants"  records  that  Besnier  de 
Sable  flew  from  a  height  across  a  river.  In  1742  the  Marquis 
de  Bacqueville  undertook  to  fly  from  the  top  of  his  house  in 
Paris  across  the  Seine;  he  actually  completed  the  greater  part 
of  the  journey  —  about  three  hundred  yards  —  but  fell  on  a 
boat  in  the  river.    It  is  quite  permissible  to  affirm  that  all  these 


18  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

stories  show  that  men  have  been  for  centuries  on  the  verge  of 
the  discovery  which  Lilienthal  and  his  followers  have  made  in 
our  own  day,  of  the  possibility  of  a  certain  kind  of  flight  — 
technically  known  as  soaring  —  with  the-  help  of  very  simple 
apparatus  modeled  on  the  extended  wings  of  the  condor  or  the 
albatross.  LilienthaFs  work,  of  which  we  shall  speak  later, 
does  not  indeed  offer  much  prospect  of  our  rivaling  the  birds; 
but  as  a  contribution  to  the  scientific  study  of  flight  it  has  an 
importance  which  should  make  us  think  kindly  of  these  muti- 
lated and  decried  forerunners. 

Leaving  experiment  for  theory  we  find  that  some  of  our 
greatest  thinkers  have  long  meditated  on  the  possibility  of 
man^s  achieving  the  dominion  of  the  air.  A  striking  page 
from  the  notebook  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  which  is  reproduced 
in  the  well-illustrated  volume  of  Messrs.  Valentine  and  Tom- 
linson,  shows  that  that  great  artist,  who  was  also  a  keen  engi- 
neer, often  exercised  his  mind  by  devising  mechanical  wings 
and  flying  machines.  Eoger  Bacon  actually  hit,  in  a  vague  and 
shadowy  manner,  on  the  possibility  of  the  balloon.  He  was 
led  by  the  analogy  of  the  ocean  to  conceive  that  the  air  might 
also  bear  vessels  on  its  surface,  and  proposed  that  a  large 
hollow  globe  of  copper  or  other  metal  should  be  wrought 
extremely  thin,  fllled  with  "ethereal  air  of  liquid  fire,"  and 
then  launched  from  some  elevated  point  into  the  atmosphere, 
in  which  it  would  float.  The  second  and  greater  Bacon 
thought  that  it  would  be  worth  while  to  give  much  thought  to 
the  "experiment  of  flying,"  with  the  birds  for  guides.  When 
the  Eoyal  Society  was  founded  it  busied  itself  (as  Addison 
reminds  us)  in  finding  out  the  art  of  flying.  "The  famous 
Bishop  Wilkins  was  so  confident  of  success  in  it  that  he  says 
he  does  not  question  but  in  the  next  age  it  will  be  as  usual  to 
hear  a  man  call  for  his  wings  when  he  is  going  a  journey  as  it 
is  now  to  call  for  his  boots."  Several  interesting  speculations 
of  this  nature  are  to  be  found  in  the  pages  of  Messrs.  Valentine 
and  Tomlinson,  but  they  are  not  of  much  importance  except  as 
showing  how  earnestly  —  and  often  how  wildly  —  men  have 
filled  their  minds  with  hopes  of  fiight.  We  may  now  turn  to 
modern  and  practical  investigations  of  the  subject,  which  date 
back  to  the  invention  of  the  balloon  in  1783. 

Bishop  Wilkins,  whose  treatises  are  still  a  mine  of  delight, 


AERIAL  NAVIGATION  19 

somewhere  classifies  the  various  methods  of  human  fliglit,  with 
a  great  air  of  precision,  under  four  heads : 

(1)  By  spirits  or  angels. 

(2)  By  the  help  of  fowls. 

(3)  By  wings  fastened  immediately  to  the  body. 

(4)  By  a  flying  chariot. 

Modern  science  has  rejected  the  two  former  methods  as 
beyond  the  reach  of  experiment.  Even  the  Society  for  Psy- 
chical Eesearch  has  not  been  able  to  treat  cases  of  "  levitation '' 
seriously.  The  examples  of  Elijah  and  Philip  and  Habakkuk 
(who  was  capable  de  tout)  throw  little  light  on  the  subject, 
and  no  one  would  nowadays  propose  to  harness  a  team  of  eagles 
to  his  balloon,  though  the  late  Lord  Carlingford  actually  took 
steps  to  patent  such  a  contrivance  in  1856,  and  a  similar  project 
is  described  in  one  of  the  recently  published  letters  of  Charles 
Darwin.  Modern  researches  in  the  art  of  flying  may  be  clas- 
sified under  Bishop  Wilkins'  third  and  fourth  heads.  On  the 
one  hand,  we  have  the  experiments  of  Lilienthal  and  his  fol- 
lowers in  the  art  of  soaring  by  means  of  wings  or  aeroplanes 
fastened  directly  to  the  body  of  the  investigator,  usually  with- 
out the  addition  of  any  motor-power;  these  have  been  directed 
rather  to  solving  the  very  important  question  of  balancing  a 
flying  machine  in  the  air  than  to  achieving  flight  in  the 
ordinary  sense  of  the  word,  and  we  shall  consider  them  at  a 
later  stage.  On  the  other  hand,  we  have  the  main  body  of 
research,  which  has  devoted  itself  to  devising  some  "  flying 
chariot,"  or  flying  machine  as  we  prefer  to  call  it  nowadays, 
in  which  one  or  more  persons  may  imitate  the  way  of  a  bird  in 
the  air.  Here  again  we  must  distinguish  two  lines  of  research. 
The  problem  may  be  attacked  either  by  way  of  aerostation  or 
of  aviation,  to  use  the  convenient  terms  which  we  have  bor- 
rowed from  the  French  aeronauts  for  the  two  chief  methods 
of  flight.  Aerostation  involves  the  use  of  flying  machines 
which  are  lighter  than  an  equal  bulk  of  air,  and  so  float  in  the 
atmosphere  as  a  ship  floats  in  water;  the  modern  problem  in 
their  case  is  to  discover  some  means  of  controlling  their  flight 
and  driving  them  independently  of  the  wind.  Aviation  in- 
volves the  use  of  flying  machines  heavier  than  air,  which  are 
to  be  kept  afloat  by  the  pressure  of  the  air  on  their  surfaces, 
and  which  would  at  once  fall  to  the  ground  if  the  motor-powder 


20  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

ceased  to  act.  The  ordinary  balloon  is  the  type  of  the  aero- 
stat, while  a  bird  or  a  boy's  kite  affords  precedent  for  the 
aviator.  For  chronological  and  other  reasons  it  will  be  con- 
venient to  deal  first  with  the  problem  of  aerostation,  which 
appears  already  to  have  attained  the  highest  practical  develop- 
ment that  theoretical  reasons  suggest  as  likely. 

The  central  idea  of  the  balloon  may  be  said,  as  we  have  seen, 
to  have  occurred  to  Roger  Bacon  more  than  six  centuries  ago. 
It  must  have  presented  itself,  one  would  think,  to  any  thought- 
ful man  who  had  noticed  the  clouds  floating  serenely  miles 
above  the  earth,  or  had  watched  smoke  ascending  from  a  fire 
—  at  any  rate,  if  we  believe  the  stories  about  Xewton^s  apple, 
or  the  leaping  kettle-lid  which  gave  Watt  the  first  notion  of 
his  steam-engine.  Others  after  Bacon  conceived  the  same  idea, 
in  a  still  more  impracticable  fashion.  One  ingenious  gentle- 
man noticed  that  the  dew  ascended  to  the  skies  when  the  sun 
fell  upon  it,  and  suggested  that  egg-shells  filled  with  dew  would 
equally  tend  to  rise.  Another  proposed  to  take  "the  eggs  of 
the  larger  description  of  swans,  or  leather  balls  well  stitched 
with  fine  thongs,^^  and  fill  them  with  nitre,  quicksilver,  and 
other  substances  "  which  raref}^  by  their  caloric  energy .^^  These 
people  sought,  in  fact,  for  a  levitational  quality  akin  to  the 
dormitive  virtue  of  opium,  but  never  found  it.  The  Jesuit 
Lana  came  nearer  to  the  mark  in  1670,  when  he  proposed  to 
raise  a  flying  chariot  by  means  of  thin  cojoper  globes  exhausted 
of  the  air,  which  Torricelli  had  just  proved  to  have  a  definite 
weight.  It  did  not  occur  to  him  that  the  pressure  of  the 
atmosphere  would  instantly  crush  in  such  globes  if  made  light 
enough  to  have  any  rising  power,  and  the  persistence  of  error 
is  illustrated  by  the  fact  that  the  use  of  a  vacuum  has  been 
seriously  suggested  in  our  own  day  as  a  substitute  for  hydrogen. 

The  balloon  might  quite  well  have  been  invented  two  thou- 
sand years  ago,  but  the  first  to  make  any  kind  of  aerostat  seems 
to  have  been  the  Italian  Tiberio  Cavallo,  a  Fellow  of  our  own 
Royal  Society,  who  on  June  20,  1782,  exhibited  to  his  colleagaies 
of  that  learned  body  the  ascent  of  soap-bubbles  filled  with  "  in- 
flammable air,^^  as  the  gas  which  we  now  call  hydrogen  was 
christened  by  Cavendish  when  he  discovered  it  in  1760.  Cav- 
endish had  observed  that  the  extreme  lightness  of  this  gas  — 
still  the  lightest  of  all  known  substances  —  might  fit  it  for  such 


AERIAL  NAVIGATION  21 

an  experiment^  and  Black  had  suggested  that  a  bladder  filled 
with  it  would  rise  in  the  air,  though  he  does  not  appear  to  have 
actually  tried  the  experiment.  Thus  Cavallo  is  entitled  to 
remembrance  as  the  pioneer  of  ballooning.  At  the  same  time, 
however,  an  idea  was  germinating  in  the  mind  of  a  French 
paper-maker  which  caused  the  first  practical  balloon  to  be 
of  quite  a  different  kind. 

In  November,  1782,  Stephen  and  Joseph  Montgolfier,  two 
young  paper-makers  of  Annonay,  hit  on  the  brilliant  but  simple 
idea  that  has  immortalized  their  name.  They  saw  that  sinoke 
constantly  ascended,  and  must  therefore  be  lighter  than  air. 
They  knew  vaguely  that  savants  had  long  been  talking  of  the 
possibility  of  making  some  machine  that  would  rise  in  the  air. 
Why  should  not  a  bag  filled  with  smoke  ascend?  they  asked 
themselves.  They  tried  the  experiment  —  an  apocryphal  anec- 
dote declares  that  Madame  Montgolfier's  petticoat,  conveniently 
airing  by  the  fire,  was  the  first  balloon  —  and  sure  enough  the 
bag  did  rise  to  the  ceiling.  Within  six  months  they  had  con- 
structed a  large  balloon,  with  a  grate  fitted  to  its  neck  so  as 
to  keep  the  air  inside  it  rarefied  for  some  time,  and  the  first 
public  ascent  —  though  without  an  aeronaut  —  took  place, 
amidst  the  thunderous  plaudits  of  an  admiring  crowd,  at  An- 
nonay on  June  5,  1783.  The  public  imagination  was  im- 
mensely taken  by  this  achievement,  and  it  was  not  long  before 
the  daring  and  ill-fated  Pilatre  de  Eozier  made  his  first  ascent 
in  a  balloon  of  the  same  kind.  Soon  it  was  the  fashion  to 
experiment  with  little  fire-balloons,  or  Montgolfieres,  and  all 
over  France  -the  skies  were  full  of  them.  The  taste  rapidly 
spread  "to  England,  where  Lunardi  made  his  famous  first  ascent 
on  September  15,  1784.  Eeaders  of  Horace  Walpole's  letters 
will  remember  his  frequent  remarks  on  the  prevalent  craze,  as 
he  thought  it.  "  Do  not  wonder,"  he  wrote  at  the  end  of  1783, 
"  that  we  do  not  entirely  attend  to  things  of  earth ;  fashion  has 
ascended  to  a  higher  element.  All  our  views  are  directed  to  the 
air.  Balloons  occupy  senators,  philosophers,  ladies,  every- 
body.-'^ Walpole  was  careful  to  inform  his  correspondents 
that  they  appeared  to  him  "  as  childish  as  the  flying  kites  of 
schoolboys,"  though  he  thought  the  exploits  of  the  '^'^airgo- 
nauts"  worth  chronicling  at  some  length.  He  even  went  so 
far  as  to  picture  a  time  when  our  seaports  might  become  de- 


22  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

serted  villages,  and  all  our  trafl&c  be  conducted  through  the  air. 
"In  those  days  Old  Sarum  will  again  be  a  town  and  have 
houses  in  it.  There  will  be  fights  in  the  air  with  wind-guns 
and  bows  and  arrows,  and  there  will  be  prodigious  increase  of 
land  for  tillage,  especially  in  France,  by  breaking  up  all  public 
roads  as  useless.'^  Within  two  years  after  Montgolfier's  first 
ascent,  the  Abbot  of  Strawberry  convinced  himself  that  "bal- 
loonation"  was  an  exploded  craze,  which  could  never  be  of 
any  service  to  mankind ;  yet  he  had  a  saving  doubt,  and  wrote : 
"  How  posterity  will  laugh  at  us,  one  way  or  other !  If  half 
a  dozen  break  their  necks,  and  balloonism  is  exploded,  we  shall 
be  called  fools  for  having  imagined  it  could  be  brought  to  use ; 
if  it  should  be  turned  to  account,  we  shall  be  ridiculed  for 
having  doubted.^^ 

It  is  unnecessary  here  to  trace  the  history  of  the  ordinary 
balloon,  which  may  be  read  at  length  in  Mr.  Bacon's  interesting 
and  popularly  written  book,  and  has  frequently  been  told  before. 
We  need  only  remind  the  reader  that  Professor  Charles,  soon 
after  the  success  of  the  Montgolfiers,  constructed  a  balloon 
filled  with  hydrogen,  on  the  suggestion  of  Cavallo's  soap- 
bubbles;  this  made  a  successful  ascent  on  August  25,  1783. 
Thenceforward  numerous  experiments  with  both  kinds  of  bal- 
loons—  unchecked  by  the  lamentable  accidents  which  ended 
the  lives  of  some  of  the  most  adventurous  aeronauts  —  soon 
raised  the  ordinary  balloon  to  a  high  degree  of  completeness; 
indeed,  no  serious  advance  in  the  art  of  ballooning  has  been 
made  since  the  early  days  of  the  nineteenth  century,  although 
many  details  of  practical  convenience  have  been  brought  to 
greater  perfection. 

The  balloon  has  done  much  good  service  to  meteorology,  as 
Mr.  Bacon  —  who  is  an  expert  in  this  matter  —  points  out. 
It  is  hardly  possible  to  overrate  the  importance  of  the  increase 
in  our  knowledge  of  weather  and  the  conditions  on  which  it 
depends  which  has  thus  been  brought  about.  As  the  late  Mr. 
James  Glaisher,  whose  name  is  connected  with  one  of  the  high- 
est and  most  adventurous  ascents  on  record,  expressed  it: 

"  In  regard  to  such  matters  the  balloon  is  unique,  as  the  atmosphere 
is  the  great  laboratory  of  nature,  in  which  are  produced  all  the  phe- 
nomena of  weather,  the  results  of  which  we  perceive  on  the  earth ;  and 
no  observations   made   on    mountain   sides   can   take   the   place   of   those 


AERIAL  NAVIGATION  23 

made  in  the  balloon,  as  what  is  required  is  the  knowledge  of  the  state 
of  the  upper  atmosphere  itself,  free  from  the  disturbing  effects  of  the 
contiguity  of  the   land." 

It  has  well  been  said  that  the  human  race  spends  its  days 
in  crawling  about  the  bed  of  the  great  ocean  of  air,  on  whose 
movements  and  fluctuations  our  weather,  with  all  its  econom- 
ical and  social  consequences,  depends.  In  studying  these  fluc- 
tuations we  are  handicapped  much  as  an  intelligent  kraken 
would  be,  if  from  its  immemorial  bed  in  the  Atlantic  ooze  it 
attempted  to  construct  a  map  of  the  surface  currents.  We 
profit  by  the  use  of  balloons  as  the  kraken  would  profit  by  the 
employment  of  a  mobile  squadron  of  sharks  and  dolphins  to 
report  on  the  movements  of  the  upper  waters.  Thus  we  are 
able  to  study  the  meteorology  of  the  atmosphere  in  three 
dimensions  instead  of  in  two.  Of  recent  years  a  still  further 
step  has  been  taken  in  this  direction  by  the  employment  of 
small  sounding  balloons  —  hallons  sondes  —  which  are  sent  up 
without  any  human  aeronaut  on  board,  charged  with  a  cargo 
of  light  self-recording  instruments.  At  the  Paris  Congress  of 
Meteorologists  in  1900  an  international  agreement  was  made 
for  the  systematic  exploration  of  the  upper  air  by  the  monthly 
dispatch  of  such  balloons  from  meteorological  stations  in  most 
of  the  countries  of  the  world.  Great  Britain,  unfortunately, 
still  takes  no  official  part  in  this  work,  as  we  understand, 
although  some  contribution  is  made  to  it  by  private  enterprise. 
The  balloons  are  sent  aloft  on  the  same  day  in  each  month, 
and  when  they  come  down  after  a  flight  of  many  hours  they 
are  returned  to  the  place  from  which  they  started  by  the 
person  who  picks  them  up.  A  few  are  lost,  but  most  of  them 
find  their  way  back  with  the  valuable  message  that  they  bring 
from  the  upper  regions  of  the  atmosphere.  This  is  by  far  the 
most  important  use  that  has  ever  been  made  or  is  ever  likely 
to  be  made  of  the  ordinary  balloon,  which  will  hardly  be  super- 
seded for  such  a  purpose. 

The  balloon,  however,  has  been  a  great  disappointment  to 
those  who  hoped  that  it  would  solve  the  problem  of  human 
flight.  By  flight,  of  course,  we  mean  locomotion  through  the 
air  —  not  mere  helpless  drifting,  but  the  power  to  go  from 
place    to  place    with  the    same  certainty    as  our    automobiles 


24  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

possess  on  the  road  or  our  ships  on  the  trackless  ocean.  The 
ordinary  balloon  is  quite  useless  in  that  respect  —  as  useless 
as  a  raft  without  sail  or  paddle  would  be  to  the  transatlantic 
voyager.  It  is  bound  to  arrive  somewhere,  indeed,  but  no  aero- 
naut can  have  much  certainty  within  a  few  scores  of  miles 
where  he  will  descend.  The  balloon,  in  short,  is  absolutely  at 
the  mercy  of  the  wind.  It  is  part  and  parcel  of  the  stratum 
of  air  in  which  it  floats,  and  is  obliged  to  go  whithersoever 
that  air  is  journeying.  The  aeronaut's  control  of  it  is  solely 
exercised  in  the  vertical.  He  can  ascend  by  throwing  out  bal- 
last, or  descend  by  losing  gas  —  a  wasteful  process,  which 
shortens  the  life  of  a  balloon  every  time  that  it  is  employed, 
and  for  which  many  substitutes  that  should  not  fritter  away 
these  vital  necessaries  have  been  suggested,  without  much 
success.  All  that  the  aeronaut  can  do  to  influence  the  direc- 
tion of  his  flight  is  to  choose  an  air-current  which  sets  approx- 
imately towards  the  place  which  he  desires  to  reach.  As  the 
upper  and  lower  currents  often  differ  widely  in  direction  — 
clouds  may  thus  be  seen  apparently  traveling  against  the  wind 
which  is  blowing  on  the  surface  of  the  earth  —  it  is  possible 
sometimes  to  find  a  suitable  one  by  going  up  or  down,  but  it  is 
clear  that  such  a  control  is  very  haphazard  and  impracticable 
for  the  purposes  of  the  traveler.  No  one  succeeded  in  bringing 
a  balloon  into  besieged  Paris,  for  instance,  though  to  do  so 
would  have  earned  almost  any  reward  that  the  aeronaut  liked 
to  ask.  The  failure  of  Andree's  attempt  to  make  a  compar- 
atively short  journey  is  a  typical  instance  of  the  uncertainty 
of  balloon  voyages. 

It  follows  that,  from  the  earliest  days  of  ballooning,  men 
have  tried  to  devise  means  of  controlling  the  horizontal  as  well 
as  the  vertical  motion  of  the  aerostat.  At  first  the  prospect 
.seemed  extremely  alluring,  and  it  was  thought  that  success  was 
near  at  hand.  Men  held  that  the  balloon  was,  so  to  speak,  the 
hull  of  a  ship,  and  that  it  must  be  an  easy  matter  to  equip 
it  with  sails  or  paddles  that  would  enable  it  to  travel  as  cer- 
tainly and  as  fast  as  the  East  Indiaman  or  the  Chinese  tea- 
clipper.  More  than  a  century  has  passed  away,  the  agency  of 
steam  and  other  engines  has  been  brought  to  bear  on  the  sub- 
ject, but  in  spite  of  the  ingenuity  and  pluck  of  experimenters 
like   MM.   Eenard   and   Krebs,   or   M.    Santos-Dumont,   there 


AERIAL  NAVIGATION  25 

seems  good  reason  to  believe  that  men  were  on  a  wrong  tack 
in  looking  to  any  modification  of  the  balloon  as  the  air-ship 
of  the  future.  For  reasons  that  are  now  to  be  set  out,  it  seems 
probable  that  we  shall  have  to  give  up  the  balloon  and  return 
to  the  older  plan  of  those  who  endeavored  to  produce  —  or  at 
least  to  imagine  —  flying  machines  modeled  on  the  bird. 

Very  shortly  after  the  balloon  was  invented,  men  began  to 
equip  it  with  wings,  sails,  and  paddles,  by  which  to  guide  it 
independently  of  the  wind,  as  a  ship  or  a  galley  is  guided  on 
the  sea.  The  inutility  of  all  such  attempts  soon  made  itself 
practically  apparent,  and  is  clear  from  theory.  The  ship  is 
able  to  sail  in  a  direction  different  from  that  of  the  air-current 
which  provides  its  motor-power  because  its  hull  is  immersed  in 
a  denser  medium,  which  prevents  it  from  driving  at  the  same 
speed  as  the  wind.  But  the  balloon  is  all  sail,  so  to  speak:  it 
is  totally  immersed  in  the  air,  and  must  obviously  drive  along 
at  the  same  speed  as  the  wind.  Thus  the  aeronaut  seems  to 
himself  to  be  always  in  a  dead  calm,  even  if  he  is  traveling 
thirty  miles  an  hour  in  a  stiff  gale.  His  vessel  partakes  of  the 
motion  of  the  air  in  which  it  floats,  and  no  arrangement  of 
sails  will  enable  him  to  tack,  any  more  than  the  rudder  will 
affect  a  becalmed  ship,  or  a  boat  drifting  with  the  current  of 
a  river.  This  was  soon  discovered  by  experience.  Applying 
the  marine  analogy,  the  aeronaut  then  attempted  to  give  his 
balloon  steerage  way  by  the  nse  of  oars  or  paddles.  The  prin- 
ciple was  correct  enough,  but  we  know  —  as  was  soon  discov- 
ered-:-that  no  human  muscles  could  thus  affect  the  motion 
of  a  huge  bulk  like  a  balloon  to  any  extent  worth  considering. 
And  down  to  the  present  time  the  ordinary  balloon  is  admitted 
to  be  incapable  of  further  guidance  than  the  aeronaut  can  give 
it  by  hunting  for  a  more  or  less  favorable  current  of  air. 

With  the  invention  of  the  steam-engine,  however,  which 
set  its  mark  so  deeply  on  the  whole  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
new  hopes  arose  in  the  mind  of  the  aeronaut.  If  steam  could 
drive  a  ship  through  the  water,  he  thought,  why  should  it  not 
urge  a  balloon  through  the  air?  Here  the  marine  analogy  held 
good,  subject  to  the  limitations  involved  by  the  greater  tenuity 
of  the  medium  in  which  the  balloon  floats,  and  on  which  its 
screw  or  paddles  have  to  act.     It  seemed  as  if  Erasmus  Dar- 


26  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

win's  prophecy  would  be  realized  —  as  if  the  new  unconquered 
force  of  steam  would  soon 

"  On  wide-waving  wings   expanded  bear 
The  flying  chariot  through  the  field  of  air." 

The  combination  of  the  balloon  and  the  steam-engine  was  quite 
comparable  to  the  ocean  steamer.  But  in  practice  these  hopes 
were  again  doomed  to  disappointment^  and  the  navigable  or 
dirigible  balloon,  in  spite  of  the  moderate  success  which  has 
been  achieved  during  the  last  twenty  years  by  one  or  two 
experimenters,  is  never  likely  to  be  of  much  importance,  except 
perhaps  for  the  limited  purposes  of  warfare  or  sport.  A  brief 
summary  of  v/hat  has  been  done  in  this  way  will  lead  to  a  clear 
perception  of  the  reasons  for  this  pessimistic  conclusion. 

The  first  serious  attempt  to  build  a  navigable  balloon  was 
that  of  Henry  Giffard  —  the  distinguished  French  engineer  to 
whom  we  owe  the  well-known  Giffard  injector  —  in  1852.  It 
was  already  clear  that  the  ordinary  spherical  balloon  was  ill- 
adapted  to  the  purposes  of  aerial  navigation,  where  the  resist- 
ance of  the  air  is  the  great  difficulty,  and  Giffard  gave  his  bal- 
loon the  elongated  cigar-shape  which  has  been  adopted  by  almost 
all  who  have  followed  in  his  footsteps.  It  was  about  100  feet 
long  and  39  feet  in  diameter,  and  was  driven  by  a  screw  actu- 
ated by  a  small  steam-engine.  In  a  dead  calm  this  balloon 
attained  a  speed  of  about  eight  miles  an  hour,  but  it  hardly 
passed  beyond  the  experimental  stage.  The  next  navigable 
balloon  was  also  constructed  in  France,  the  special  home  of 
this  type  of  air-ship :  Dupuy  de  Lome  built  it  towards  the  end 
of  the  siege  of"  Paris,  with  a  view  to  using  it  for  the  attack  of 
the  Prussian  lines,  but  it  was  not  completed  until  a  year  later. 
Its  screw  was  driven  by  the  manual  force  of  eight  men,  while 
it  attained  a  speed  of  about  six  miles  an  hour,  and  readily 
obeyed  its  helm  in  still  weather.  But,  of  course,  it  was  quite 
unable  to  contend  with  even  a  gentle  breeze. 

The  only  valid  test  of  a  satisfactory  navigable  balloon  is  that 
it  should  be  able  to  make  a  trip  on  an  ordinary  day  and  return 
to  the  place  from  which  it  started.  The  first  to  do  that  —  and, 
with  the  exception  of  M.  Santos-Dumont's  balloon,  the  only  one 
which  has  ever  succeeded  in  it  —  was  the  balloon  "  La  France," 
built  in  1884  by  MM.  Renard  and  Krebs  at  the  French  military 


AERIAL  NAVIGATION  27 

aeronautical  station  at  Meudon.  This  was  a  fisli-shaped  bal- 
loon, about  165  feet  long  and  27.5  feet  in  diameter.  It  was 
driven  by  a  screw  23  feet  in  diameter,  made  of  wood  covered  with 
silk,  and  an  electro-motor  of  8.5  horse-power,  weighing  about 
1,386  pounds,  or  163  pounds  to  the  horse-power  —  a  great  con- 
trast to  the  modern  motors  used  by  aeronauts,  which  weigh  as 
little  as  7  pounds  or  8  pounds  to  the  horse-power.  In  the 
summer  of  1884  this  balloon  made  seven  successful  voyages, 
attaining  a  speed  of  ten  miles  an  hour,  and  returning  on 
several  occasions  to  the  ver}-  point  from  which  it  set  out,  after 
a  journey  of  some  miles,  part  of  which  was  made  in  the  teeth 
of  the  wind.  For  a  moment  it  was  thought  that  the  problem 
w^as  solved.  Cool  reflection  showed  —  to  none  more  clearly 
than  to  the  clear-sighted  inventors  —  that  this  was  not  the 
case.  The  achievements  of  "  La  France ''  —  which,  though 
they  were  much  less  advertised  and  are  now  forgotten  by  all 
but  students  of  aeronautics,  w^ere  fully  as  remarkable  as  those 
by  which  M.  Santos-Dumont  has  made  so  great  a  reputation — ■ 
seem  to  have  convinced  MM.  Eenard  and  Krebs  that  the 
problem  was  insoluble  with  the  means  at  their  disposal. 

What  do  we  ask  of  a  navigable  balloon  in  order  that  it  may 
be  of  practical  use  ?  Clearly  the  first  requisite  is  that  it  should 
be  able  to  undertake  a  journey  in  any  direction,  and  complete 
it  within  a  reasonable  time.  The  analogy  is  that  of  the  ocean 
steamer,  which  leaves  Liverpool  on  a  given  day  and  arrives  at 
New  York  on  a  fixed  day  thereafter.  We  can  excuse  its  being 
delayed  a  few  hours  —  say  even  ten  per  cent,  of  its  schedule 
time  —  by  bad  weather,  and  we  can  understand  that  once  in 
a  way  an  accident  to  the  machinery  may  prevent  its  arriving 
at  all.  But  it  would  be  a  quite  useless  vessel  if  it  had  to  wait 
for  a  fine  day  to  start,  and  was  always  liable  to  be  forced  back  to 
its  original  port  by  a  head-wind,  or  to  be  driven  down  to  the 
African  coast  by  a  persistent  north-wester.  An  air-ship,  to 
fulfil  the  same  conditions,  must  be  capable  of  traveling  against 
any  reasonable  wind.  But  a  balloon  is  in  a  worse  case  than 
the  ship  contending  with  a  head-wind,  because  there  is  no  water 
for  its  hull  to  rest  in,  but  it  is  totally  immersed  in  the  air,  and 
must  consequently  travel  at  the  same  rate  as  the  wind.  In 
other  words,  if  the  wind  is  moving  at  twenty  miles  an  hour, 
and  the  navigable  balloon  is  to  travel  at  twenty  miles  an  hour 


28  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

in  the  opposite  direction,  it  must  move  relatively  to  the  air 
at  a  speed  of  forty  miles  an  hour  —  that  is,  it  must  be  capable 
of  making  forty  miles  an  hour  in  a  dead  calm.  'Now  a  wind 
of  twenty  miles  an  hour  is  nothing  out  of  the  way:  it  is  the 
limit,  according  to  a  useful  table  given  by  Mr.  Walker,  of 
what  is  defined  as  a  "  strong  breeze..'^  In  order  to  make  head 
against  a  gale  of  fort}^  miles  an  hour,  the  balloon  must  be 
endowed  with  a  potential  speed  in  still  air  of  fifty  or  sixty 
miles,  equal  to  that  of  our  fastest  express  trains.  JSTow,  the 
resistance  of  the  air  varies  as  the  cube  of  the  speed  of  a  moving 
body,  so  that,  in  order  to  travel  at  forty  miles  an  hour,  which 
is  clearly  the  lowest  speed  with  which  a  practical  air-ship  can 
be  endowed  (for  the  anemometers  on  the  Eiffel  Tower  have 
shown  that  the  average  speed  of  the  wind  at  that  moderate 
altitude  is  eighteen  miles  an  hour),  a  balloon  like  "  La  France  " 
would  have  needed  engines,  not  four,  but  sixty-four,  times  as 
powerful — i.e.,  of  at  least  544  horse-power.  Even  with  the 
light  motors  of  to-day,  such  an  engine  would  weigh  at  least  two 
tons,  and  to  think  of  fitting  it  to  a  balloon  is  enough  to  show 
us  the  hopelessness  of  the  business.  Captain  Eenard  and  his 
colleague  twenty  years  ago  retired  from  the  contest,  although 
it  is  understood  that  they  have  since  been  engaged  upon  the 
task  of  fitting  their  vessel  for  use  in  war,  where  it  might  play 
a  very  decisive  part.  Military  reasons  have  kept  the  work  so 
secret  that  nothing  is  really  known  as  to  its  results. 

There  is  another  argument  against  the  likelihood  of  navi- 
gable balloons  ever  becoming  serious  rivals  to  ships  and  rail- 
way trains,  which  has  been  expressed  with  special  force  by  M.  P. 
Banet-Eivet.  We  have  shown  that  a  dirigible  balloon,  in  order 
to  be  of  any  use  for  the  ordinary  purposes  of  travel,  or  for  the 
conveyance  of  mails  and  other  light  swift  freight,  must  be 
capable  of  a  speed  of  at  least  fifty  miles  an  hour  in  still  air. 
But  what  will  be  the  condition  of  a  balloon,  made  of  any  con- 
ceivable fabric,  traveling  at  such  a  speed?  Anyone  who  has 
been  on  a  motor-car  doing  forty  or  fifty  miles  for  a  short  spurt, 
or  will  put  his  head  out  of  window  the  next  time  he  is  in  a  fast 
express,  will  be  able  faintly  to  realize  the  pressure  of  the  air 
at  such  speeds.  Further,  we  know  that  a  captive  balloon  in  a 
gale  blowing  at  anything  over  thirty  miles  an  hour  is  liable 
to  be  rapidly  destroyed.     It  is  simply  inconceivable  that  a  bal- 


AERIAL  NAVIGATION  29 

loon  of  any  kno\\Ti  material  should  be  able  to  stand  traveling 
through  the  air  at  such  a  rate.  Even  if  the  fabric  were  capable 
of  resisting  the  tremendous  pressure  of  the  air,  it  would  cer- 
tainly lose  its  shape,  and  be  crushed  or  pitted  in  front  to  an 
extent  which  would  totally  impede  its  progress,  if  it  did  not 
destroy  the  whole  machine.  It  is  clear  that  only  a  metallic 
hull  like  that  of  a  ship  could  endure  the  strain.  In  that  case 
we  are  driven  to  conclude  that  the  navigable  balloon  which 
is  adapted  for  really  useful  speeds  must  either  be  so  gigantic 
in  size  as  to  be  impossible  to  handle  —  otherwise  it  could  not 
raise  its  own  weight  —  or  must  be  heavier  than  air,  in  which 
case  it  ceases  to  be  a  balloon,  and  comes  into  the  second  class 
of  air-ships,  which  we  have  yet  to  consider,  and  with  which 
the  future  of  aerial  navigation  must  lie. 

If  this  argument  is  sound,  as  it  appears  to  be,  it  is  needless 
to  enter  into  a  lengthy  discussion  of  the  most  recent  attempts 
to  build  navigable  balloons.  The  most  notable  of  these,  which 
we  owe  to  the  skill  and  perseverance  of  M.  Santos-Dumont, 
helps  to  illustrate  our  thesis.  M.  Santos-Dumont  has  the 
advantage  of  using  motors  whose  power  in  relation  to  their 
weight  is  tenfold  superior  to  anything  known  twenty  years  ago, 
and  yet  he  has  not  outdone  the  achievements  of  "  La  France." 
On  his  most  famous  trip,  when  he  won  the  Deutsch  prize  by 
flying  round  the  Eiffel  Tower  from  St.  Cloud,  he  only  just 
managed  to  cover  five  miles  within  the  stipulated  half-hour, 
and  until  he  is  able  to  show  a  greatly  superior  speed  to  that 
it  is  useless  to  look  for  any  practical  results  from  his  work. 
At  the  same  time,  one  would  not  appear  regardless  of  the 
courage  and  ability  which  he  has  shown  in  his  work,  and  which 
have  justly  earned  him  a  high  reputation  among  those  who 
seek  the  dominion  of  the  air. 

We  must  conclude  that,  so  far  as  theory  based  on  existing 
experience  can  tell  us,  the  navigable  balloon  is  an  unrealizable 
dream.  That  is  to  say,  it  can  never  hope  to  compete  with  the 
steamer  or  the  railway  as  a  conveyance  for  passengers  or  mails, 
while  no  one  supposed  that  it  would  ever  furnish  a  practical 
method  of  conveying  freight.  Its  use  must  be  confined  to  the 
purposes  of  sport  and  war.  In  a  future  campaign  it  is  quite 
possible  that  balloons  of  the  type  of  that  of  M.  Santos-Dumont 
may  play  a  considerable  part.     As  a  method  of  reconnaissance, 


30  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

nothing  can  be  more  promising  than  a  trip  in  such  a  vehicle 
across  the  lines  of  an  enemy,  while  it  is  conceivable  that  it 
might  also  be  nsed  with  advantage  to  keep  up  communications 
betw^een  a  besieged  town  or  fortress  and  the  surrounding  country 

—  though  that  is  not  very  likely.  As  an  actual  engine  of  war- 
fare—  dropping  high  explosives  into  a  hostile  army  or  fortress 

—  it  is  less  likely  to  be  of  importance,  even  if  the  rule  of  the 
Hague  Conference,  which  forbids  such  a  method  of  fighting, 
were  to  become  a  dead  letter,  as  it  probably  would  if  it  were 
found  to  hamper  one  of  the  combatants  in  a  great  European 
war.  The  practical  difficulties,  not  to  speak  of  the  danger  to 
the  aeronaut,  who  would  almost  certainly  upset  when  he  cut 
loose  his  load  of  melinite,  may  be  trusted  to  keep  this  new 
horror  out  of  the  field  for  a  long  time  to  come. 

Although  we  do  not  believe  that  the  future  of  aerial  naviga- 
tion lies  with  the  navigable  balloon,  there  is  this  justification 
for  its  discussion  at  length  —  that  at  present  it  is  the  only  air- 
ship which  has  actually  been  used  by  mankind.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  a  few  sporadic  and  doubtful  cases,  no  one  has  ventured 
to  trust  himself  to  the  mercy  of  the  flying  machine,  which  sup- 
ports itself  solely  by  its  motion,  like  a  bird.  Yet  there  are 
various  promising  experiments  to  be  recorded,  and  at  least  one 
model  —  the  aerodrome  of  Professor  S.  P.  Langley  —  has 
actually  flown  for  half  a  mile  at  a  time  without  accident,  while 
Sir  Hiram  Maxim  is  convinced,  and  has  convinced  those  best 
able  to  judge,  that  his  full-sized  aeroplane  is  perfectly  able  to 
fly,  when  the  still  insuperable  troubles  of  balancing  in  the  air 
and  of  alighting  without  destruction  are  overcome.  It  remains 
to  consider  what  has  been  done  in  this  line,  and  what  are  the 
conditions  of  the  problem. 

The  analogy  of  nature  shows  us  that  the  problem  of  flight 
can  be  completely  solved  without  the  introduction  of  the  bal- 
loon. Birds  and  insects,  which  have  solved  it  so  perfectly,  are 
all  heavier  than  the  air  which  they  displace,  and  keep  them- 
selves up  by  the  pressure  which  their  wings  exert  upon  it  — 
either  by  flapping,  which  is  comparable  to  treading  water  in 
swimming,  or  by  soaring,  which  is  the  method  that  the  suc- 
cessful flying  machine  will  probably  adopt.  These  processes 
both  depend  on  the  axiom  which  has  thus  been  enunciated, 
"  The  air  is  a  solid  if  you  hit  it  hard  enough."     Professor  Lang- 


AERIAL  NAVIGATION  31 

ley,  in  his  admirable  little  essay  on  the  pterodactyl,  "The 
Greatest  Flying  Creature/'  points  out  the  distinction  between 
birds  like  the  pigeon  or  the  wild  goose,  which  fly  by  flapping 
their  wings,  and  birds  like  the  condor  or  the  eagle,  which  soar 
apparently  without  effort.  Elsewhere,  in  the  classic  mon- 
ographs on  "  Experiments  in  Aerodynamics,^'  and  "  The  In- 
ternal Work  of  the  Wind,^'  to  which  we  owe  our  most  important 
knowledge  of  this  subject,  he  has  shown  all  future  investigators 
how  to  attack  the  problem  of  flight.  Instead  of  dealing  with 
the  history  of  fl3'ing  machines  which  are  related  to  have  flown, 
from  the  pigeon  of  Archytas  to  the  somewhat  mythical  artificial 
albatross  of  Le  Bris,  it  will  be  more  useful  to  give  some  account 
of  Professor  Langiey's  results,  which  he  has  utilized  in  the  con- 
struction of  the  most  efficient  flying  model  that  has  yet  been 
seen. 

In  the  first  place  it  must  be  noted  that  the  laws  of  flight  are 
to  be  discovered  in  the  behavior  of  the  soaring  birds.  For  thou- 
sands of  years  they  have  completely  mastered  the  art  which 
man  hopes  one  day  to  apply  to  the  construction  of  a  flying 
machine.  Darwin's  admirable  description  of  the  condors  which 
he  saw  in  South  America  is  worth  quoting,  as  an  exact  observ- 
er's account  of  the  process : 

"  Except  when  rising  from,  the  ground,  I  do  not  recollect  ever  having 
seen  one  of  these  birds  flap  its  wings.  Near  Lima,  I  watched  several 
for  nearly  half  an  hour,  without  once  taking  off  my  eyes ;  they  moved  in 
large  curves,  sweeping  in  circles,  descending  and  ascending  without  giv- 
ing a  single  flap.  As  they  glided  close  over  my  head,  I  intently  watched 
from  an  oblique  position  the  outlines  of  the  separate  and  great  terminal 
feathers  of  each  wing,  and  these  separate  feathers,  if  there  had  been 
the  least  vibratory  movement,  would  have  appeared,  as  if  blended  to- 
gether ;  but  they  were  seen  distinct  against  the  blue  sky.  The  head  and 
neck  were  moved  frequently,  and  apparently  with  force,  and  the  extended 
wings  seemed  to  form  the  fulcrum  on  which  the  movements  of  the  neck, 
body,  and  tail  acted.  If  the  bird  wished  to  descend,  the  wings  were  for 
a  moment  collapsed ;  and  when  again  expanded,  with  an  altered  inclina- 
tion, the  momentum  gained  by  the  rapid  descent  seemed  to  urge  the  bird 
upwards  with  the  even  and  steady  movement  of  a  paper  kite.  In  the 
case  of  any  bird  soaring,  its  motion  must  be  sufficiently  rapid  so  that 
the  action  of  the  inclined  surfaces  of  its  body  on  the  atmosphere  may 
counterbalance  its  gravity.  The  force  to  keep  up  the  momentum  of  a 
body  moving  in  a  horizontal  plane  in  the  air  (in  which  there  is  so  little 
friction)  cannot  be  great,  and  this  force  is  all  that  is  wanted." 


32  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

The  problem  is  to  devise  a  mechanical  apparatus  which  will 
imitate  the  condor,  and  will  incidentally  be  large  enough  to 
support  one  or  more  human  beings  who  may  control  its  flight. 
In  order  to  do  this  it  is  clearly  necessary  to  understand  exactly 
how  the  bird  supports  itself  and  soars  with  so  little  apparent 
expenditure  of  energy.  Of  all  those  who  have  set  their  wits 
to  tackle  this  problem  —  some  with  a  certain  measure  of  prac- 
tical success,  if  the  stories  of  artificial  birds  are  to  be  accepted 
—  Professor  Langley  was  the  first  to  carry  out  a  truly  scientific 
investigation.  Of  the  two  monographs  already  mentioned,  the 
one  that  was  published  second  is  really  the  first  to  be  studied. 
It  deals  with  the  "internal  work"  of  the  wind,  and  has  re- 
vealed a  state  of  things  which  no  one  had  previously  guessed. 
We  think  of  the  wind  as  a  fairly  uniform  force;  but  Professor 
Langley  has  shown  that,  even  when  it  seems  steadiest,  it  is  but 
a  generic  name  for  a  series  of  infinitely  complex  phenomena. 
It  is  always  variable  and  irregular  in  its  movements  beyond 
anything  which  could  be  anticipated.  Even  the  smallest  por- 
tion of  an  air  current  which  can  be  examined  proves  to  have 
no  homogeneous  parts.  It  consists  of  an  exceedingly  complex 
tangle  of  tiny  and  diverse  currents.  It  is  by  a  kind  of  selective 
action  upon  these  currents  that  the  bird  soars,  by  choosing  out 
all  the  variations  which  happen  to  suit  its  motion.  The  birds 
"  see  the  wind,"  so  to  say,  or  in  some  mysterious  way  recognize 
a  fact  which  only  the  happy  accident  of  using  a  very  small  and 
sensitive  anemometer  revealed  to  Professor  Langley.  The 
stronger  and  more  apparently  uniform  the  wind  is,  the  greater 
are  its  relative  fiuctuations.  "  In  a  high  wind  the  air  moves 
in  a  tumultuous  mass,  the  velocity  being  at  one  moment,  per- 
haps, forty  miles  an  hour,  then  diminishing  to  an  almost  in- 
stantaneous calm,  and  then  resuming."  It  is  to  these  minute 
and  rapid  changes  that  Professor  Langley  refers  when  he  speaks 
of  the  "internal  work"  of  the  wind.  He  has  lucidly  shown 
how,  if  we  assume,  as  we  must,  that  birds  have  an  instinctive 
ability  to  utilize  these  fluctuations,  they  account  for  such  a  re- 
markable phenomenon  as  the  fact  that  a  turkey  buzzard  has 
been  seen  to  hover,  with  no  apparent  effort,  stationary  in  the 
teeth  of  a  gale  blowing  at  thirty-five  miles  an  hour. 

The  application  of  this  remarkable  discovery  lies  in  the 
proposition  that  it  should  be  possible  to  cause  any  suitably  dis- 


AERIAL  NAVIGATION  33 

posed  body,  animate  or  inanimate,  wholly  immersed  in  the 
wind,  and  wholly  free  to  move,  to  advance  against  the  general 
direction  of  the  wind  as  a  whole.  This  would  be  clearly  im- 
possible if  the  wind  were  so  nearly  homogeneous  as  the  mis- 
leading voice  of  our  senses  causes  us  to  suppose.  "A  ship  is 
free  to  go  against  a  head-wind  by  the  force  of  that  wind,  owing 
to  the  fact  that  it  is  partly  immersed  in  the  water,  which  acts 
on  the  keel;  but  it  is  here  asserted  that  —  contrary  to  usual 
opinion,  and  in  opposition  to  what  may  at  first  seem  the  teach- 
ing of  physical  science  —  it  is  not  impossible  that  a  heavy  and 
nearly  inert  bod}',  wholly  immersed  in  the  air,  can  be  made  to 
do  this."  That  is  to  say,  it  may  be  possible  to  construct  a  fly- 
ing machine,  whether  with  an  automatic  "  brain "  analogous 
to  the  balance-chamber  in  a  Whitehead  torpedo,  or  under  the 
control  of  a  trained  aeronaut,  which  will  fly  without  the  use  of 
a  motor  by  utilizing  all  the  favorable  variations  in  the  wind, 
or  at  least  will  use  its  motor  as  the  auxiliary  screw  of  a  sailing 
yacht,  for  progress  in  calms  or  against  a  persistently  unhelpful 
air  current.  It  may  still  take  many  years  of  experiment  and 
sedulous  aping  of  nature  to  devise  the  intricate  machinery  of 
the  automatic  brain,  indeed,  or  to  endow  human  aeronauts 
with  the  capacity  of  "  seeing  the  wind,"  and  constantly  shift- 
ing the  aeroplanes  to  take  advantage  of  its  shifts,  which  the 
bird  has  instinctively  acquired  in  so  many  ages;  but  Professor 
Langley  has  demonstrated  the  theoretical  possibility  of  such  a 
machine. 

He  was  anticipated  in  practice  by  the  ingenious  and  re- 
sourceful Otto  Lilienthal,  whose  sad  death  by  an  accident  to  his 
wings  in  1896  was  a  great  blow  to  the  study  of  flight,  although 
his  work  was  taken  up  in  the  United  States  by  Mr.  Chanute 
and  his  friends,  and  there  carried  to  a  higher  pitch  of  develop- 
ment. Lilienthal,  who  was  born  in  1848,  took  a  very  early 
interest  in  the  problem  of  flight,  and  soon  perceived  that  it 
could  best  be  attacked  by  a  careful  investigation  of  the  condi- 
tions which  determine  the  soaring  of  birds.  He  published  the 
result  of  his  observations  in  his  epoch-making  treatise  of  1889 
on  "  That  Flight  of  Birds  as  the  Basis  of  the  Art  of  Flying." 
In  this  work  he  reached  independently  the  result  which  Pro- 
fessor Langle}''  attained  by  his  study  of  the  wind,  and  showed 
that  a  man  equipped  with  sustaining  aeroplanes  could  "per- 


34  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

form  soaring  or  sailing  flight"  without  the  use  of  any  motor 
beyond  that  afforded  by  the  wind  itself.  He  laid  down  thirty 
rules  for  the  construction  of  wings,  as  his  supporting  aeroplanes 
may  fitly  be  called,  of  which  the  most  important  may  thus  be 
summarized :  — 

(1)  The  construction  of  flying  machines  is  not  dependent 
upon  motors. 

(2)  Hovering  flight,  however,  is  impossible  without  a  motor 
of  at  least  1.5  horse-power. 

(3)  A  man  has  sufiicient  muscular  power  to  fly  in  an  aver- 
age v/ind. 

(4)  In  a  wind  moving  faster  than  twent3^-two  miles  an  hour 
a  man  can  perform  soaring  or  sailing  flight  by  means  of  ade- 
quate and  appropriate  sustaining  surfaces. 

(5)  All  such  flying  apparatus  must  be  modeled  on  the  wings 
of  large  birds. 

In  1891  Lilienthal  constructed  his  first  soaring  machine,  and 
began  to  make  short  flights.  With  the  aid  of  a  bird-shaped 
framework,  so  constructed  that  the  inclination  of  the  wings 
and  tail  could  be  altered  at  pleasure  by  the  athletic  experi- 
menter—  Lilienthal  was  a  trained  gymnast  —  he  successfully 
attempted  toboggan-like  glides  down  an  inclined  plane  of  air, 
starting  from  the  top  of  a  low  mound,  down  whose  sides  he 
ran  until  the  air-pressure  on  the  under  sides  of  his  wings  raised 
him  from  the  ground.  Long  and  assiduous  practice,  varied  by 
many  tumbles,  taught  him  to  steer  himself  in  the  air  by  ad- 
justing the  wings  to  every  change  in  the  wind.  At  length  he 
came  to  fly  as  much  as  a  quarter  of  a  mile  at  a  time.  The 
sensation  was  wildly  exhilarating,  as  Mr.  Chanute  and  other 
experimenters  agree.  "  Finally,"  wrote  Lilienthal,  "  we  be- 
come perfectly  at  ease,  even  when  soaring  high  in  the  air,  while 
the  indescribably  beautiful  and  gentle  gliding  over  the  long 
sunny  slopes  rekindles  our  ardor  at  every  trial.  It  does  not 
"take  very  long  before  it  is  quite  a  matter  of  indifference 
whether  we  are  gliding  along  two  or  twenty  yards  above  the 
ground ;  we  feel  how  safely  the  air  is  carrying  us,  even  though 
we  see  diminutive  men  looking  up  at  us  in  astonishment.  Soon 
we  pass  over  ravines  as  high  as  houses,  and  sail  for  several  hun- 
dred yards  throug^h  the  air  without  any  danger,  parrying  the 
force  of  the  wind  at  every  movement." 


AERIAL  NAVIGATION  35 

Lilienthal  insisted,  very  wisely,  on  the  need  for  exhaustive 
experiments  of  this  kind  before  any  attempt  was  made  to  build 
a  more  ambitious  flying  machine.  The  great  difficulty  with 
all  such  machines  is  to  preserve  the  balance  in  the  air.  It  is 
analogous  to  the  difficulty  which  would  be  found  in  riding  a 
bicycle  over  a  surface  which  was  constantly  in  motion,  like  the 
waves  of  the  sea;  at  every  instant  the  wind  is  varying  and 
threatening  to  upset  the  experimenter,  whose  aeroplanes  then 
cease  to  support  him  and  he  comes  down  like  a  shot  pheasant. 
Lilienthal  himself  paid  the  penalty  of  his  boldness  with  his 
life;  after  five  years  of  experiments,  he  went  out  one  day  with 
a  new  apparatus  which  a  sudden  change  in  the  wind  dashed 
to  the  ground  from  a  height  of  about  one  hundred  feet,  and 
he  was  killed  on  the  spot.  ILis  only  English  follower,  Mr. 
Pitcher,  was  similarly  killed  in  1899  by  the  failure  of  an  es- 
sential part  of  his  apparatus.  But  Mr.  Chanute,  who  discov- 
ered that  the  soaring  apparatus  might  be  made  much  safer  by 
the  superposition  of  several  aeroplanes  one  above  the  other, 
believes  that  he  has  eliminated  this  source  of  danger,  and  de- 
clares that  "  any  young  and  active  man  can  become  expert  in  a 
week  '^  with  his  wings.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  much  light 
will  be  thrown  on  the  problem  of  flying  by  the  extended  use  of 
such  soaring  machines.  Lilienthal  hoped  to  see  "  Fliegesport," 
as  he  called  his  art,  become  a  rival  to  rowing  or  cycling  among 
athletic  lads.  "If,^^  he  said,  ^'we  can  succeed  in  enticing  to 
the  hill  the  young  men  who  to-day  make  use  of  the  bicycle  or 
the  boat  to  strengthen  their  nerve  and  muscle,  so  that,  borne  by 
their  wings,  they  may  glide  through  the  air,  we  shall  then  have 
directed  the  development  of  human  flight  into  a  course  which 
leads  towards  perfection." 

The  flj'ing  machine  of  the  future,  however,  will"  be  closer  akin 
to  a  steamship  than  to  a  bird.  The  purposes  of  the  condor  or 
the  eagle  are  efficiently  served  by  wings  which  enable  them  to 
make  wide  circles  in  the  air  rather  than  to  take  long  journeys, 
though  for  the  latter  purpose  they  possess  an  auxiliary  motor 
in  the  highly  developed  muscles  of  their  breasts.  But  the 
human  flying  machine  will  be  used  chiefly,  if  not  entirely,  for 
the  purposes  of  the  traveler.  It  must,  therefore,  be  provided 
with  a  motor  which  will  drive  it  rapidly  through  the  air  and 
will  render  it  largely  independent  of  the  wind.     We  have  al- 


36  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

ready  seen  that  the  successful  machine  of  this  type  must  be 
heavier  than  the  air :  as  Sir  Hiram  Maxim  has  said,  ^^  it  is 
quite  as  impossible  to  propel  a  balloon  with  any  considerable 
degree  of  velocity  through  the  air  as  it  is  for  a  jelly-fish  to 
travel  through  the  water  at  a  high  rate  of  speed/^  Thus  the 
flying  machine  must  keep  itself  afloat  as  well  as  travel  by  means 
of  its  motor  power.  That  this  is  possible  is  clear  from  the  in- 
stance of  the  kite,  which  is  kept  afloat  by  the  air-pressure  on 
its  under  surface;  relatively . to  the  air,  a  kite  is  moving  at  a 
high  speed,  although  it  may  be  stationary  with  reference  to  the 
ground.  Here  again  the  classical  investigation  is  that  of  Pro- 
fessor Langley,  who  published  its  results  in  his  "  Experiments 
in  Aerodynamics"  (1891).  He  constructed  what  he  called  a 
^^  whirling  table,"  consisting  of  a  long  horizontal  arm  which 
could  be  rotated  at  any  desired  speed,  so  that  the  behavior 
of  an  aeroplane  suspended  at  its  outer  end  could  be  scientifically 
examined.  By  means  of  a  series  of  most  ingenious  experi- 
ments, he  was  able  to  show  what  conditions  the  fiying  machine 
must  fulfil,  and  what  difficulties  it  has  to  contend  with.  In  the 
first  place,  he  discovered  that  a  horizontal  plane  in  motion 
through  the  air  loses  part  of  its  weight,  and  so  tends  to  fall 
more  slowly  than  it  would  do  at  rest,  the  difference  represent- 
ing the  part  which  is  borne  up  by  the  air.  If,  instead  of  being 
horizontal,  the  plane  is  inclined  at  an  angle  to  the  ground,  it  is 
obvious  that  the  weight  thus  borne  up  will  be  increased;  every 
schoolboy  who  has  ever  thrown  a  paper  dart  has  an  empirical 
knowledge  of  that  fact.  But  no  one  had  realized  the  true  state 
of  the  case,  which  is  expressed  in  what  will  henceforward  be 
known  as  Langley's  Law,  the  fundamental  proposition  on  which 
the  construction  of  flying  machines  must  be  based.  This  law 
tells  us  that  the  faster  a  flying  machine  travels,  the  less  energy 
will  be  needed  to  keep  it  afloat.  In  the  words  of  its  discoverer : 
'^^If,  in  such  aerial  motion,  there  be  given  a  place  of  fixed  size 
and  weight,  inclined  at  such  an  angle  and  moved  forward  at 
such  a  speed  that  it  shall  be  sustained  in  horizontal  flight,  then 
the  more  rapid  the  motion  is,  the  less  will  be  the  power  re- 
quired to  support  and  advance  it."  This  is  just  the  opposite 
to  the  case  of  the  balloon  or  the  ocean  steamer,  where  the  neces- 
sary energy  increases  by  leaps  and  bounds  with  the  speed  of  the 
moving  body,  until  a  limit  is  reached  beyond  which  it  is  impos- 


AERIAL  NAVIGxiTION 


37 


sible  to  go.  Professor  Langley's  remarkable  discovery  is  illus- 
trated in  the  following  table,  which  shows  the  weight  that  can 
be  supported  in  the  air  by  one  horse-power,  according  to  the 
angle  at  which  the  sustaining  aeroplane  is  inclined  to  the 
horizon :  — 


Angle  of 

Aeroplane 

to    Horizon 

Soaring 
Speed     (V), 

in  Feet 
per   Second 

Horizontal 

Pressure, 

in   Grammes 

Work  Ex- 
pended per 
Minute,  in 
Foot-pounds 

Weight  that 

1    Horse-power 

will  Drive 

through  Air 

at  Speed  V 

45° 
30° 
15° 
10° 

5° 
2° 

36.7 
34.8 
36.7 
40.7 
49.8 
65.6 

500 

275 

128 

88 

45 

20 

2,434 
1,2G8 
623 
474 
297 
174 

Lbs. 
15 
29 
58 
77 
122 
209 

We  see,  from  the  last  line  of  this  table,  that  a  flying  machine 
whose  aeroplanes  are  inclined  at  an  angle  of  2°  to  the  horizon 
will  support  a  weight  of  209  pounds  for  every  horse-power 
developed  by  its  motor,  and  will  travel  at  a  speed  of  forty-five 
miles  per  hour.  Now,  it  is  possible  to  construct  engines  —  such 
as  that  which  Sir  Hiram  Maxim  uses  in  his  great  flying  ma- 
chine—  which  weigh  no  more  than  8  pounds  per  horse-power, 
so  that  there  is  no  physical  bar  to  the  construction  of  a  flying 
machine  which  will  rival  our  express  trains  in  speed,  and  will 
carry  a  large  number  of  passengers.  The  theoretical  estab- 
lishment of  this  fact  is  the  greatest  of  the  many  debts  which 
we  owe  to  the  brilliant  genius  of  Professor  Langley. 

Unfortunately,  it  is  still  too  early  to  believe  that  the  problem 
of  flight  is  solved,  although  we  are  entitled  to  say  that  science 
now  pronounces  it  to  be  soluble.  Several  flying  machines  have 
been  constructed  which,  as  far  as  their  power  to  fly  is  concerned, 
leave  little  or  nothing  to  be  desired.  The  artificial  birds  of 
many  inventors,  like  Penaud,  Le  Bris,  Pichancourt  and  Ader, 
have  their  lineal  descendants  in  the  machines  of  Sir  Hiram 
Maxim  and  Professor  Lan.srley,  which  are  the  most  remarkable 
contributions  yet  made  to  the  practical  solution  of  the  problem 
of  flight.     The  aerodrome  of  Professor  Langley,   driven  by  a 


38  MODEnX  IXVENTIOXS 

small  steam-engine  and  supported  by  aeroplanes  which  give  it 
c'l  remarkable  resemblance  to  the  pterodactyl  of  prehistoric 
times,  has  more  than  once  performed  a  satisfactory  flight  of 
half  a  mile  or  more,  coming  safely  to  earth  again  in  a  fashion 
which  seems  to  show  that  its  inventor  has  gone  far  to  overcome 
the  two  great  difficulties  that  confront  the  aeronaut  —  balance 
and  safe  descent.  Sir  Hiram  Maxim  admits  that  he  does  not 
yet  see  his  way  to  solve  them,  and  so  his  machine  —  which, 
unlike  the  model  of  Professor  Langley,  is  constructed  of  suffi- 
cient size  to  carry  several  passengers  —  has  never  been  allowed 
to  leave  the  rails  which  hold  it  to  the  earth.  It  has  frequently 
shown  itself  capable  of  rising  from  the  ground,  but  its  inventor 
wisely  refuses  to  risk  its  costly  machinery  in  actual  flight. 
Here  is  the  crux  of  the  matter.  As  we  have  seen,  the  great 
essential  of  a  flying  machine  is  not  only  that  it  should  be  able 
to  raise  itself,  but  that  it  should  keep  its  balance  in  the  air. 
And  no  one  has  yet  satisfactorily  solved  this  problem.  Further, 
there  is  the  trouble  that  an  accident  to  a  flying  machine  must 
necessarily  involve  the  grave  injury,  if  not  the  death,  of  its 
aeronaut,  and  its  own  destruction.  Only  practice  in  the  air 
can  throw  light  on  the  difficulties  of  balance,  but  it  seems 
almost  certain  that  the  first  experimenters  v/ill  not  live  to  tell 
their  tale.  Here  is  a  grave  hitch.  As  Mr.  H.  G-.  Wells,  with 
his  extraordinary  faculty  of  realizing  the  things  that  lie  out- 
side experience,  has  said :  — 

"  A  man  off  his  feet  has  the  poorest  skill  in  balancing.  Even  the 
simple  trick  of  the  bicycle  costs  him  some  hours  of  labor.  The  instan- 
taneous adjustments  of  the  wings,  the  quick  response  to  a  passing  breeze, 
the  swift  recovery  of  equilibrium,  the  giddy,  eddying  movements  that 
require  such  absolute  precision  —  all  that  he  must  learn  with  infinite 
labor  and  infinite  danger,  if  ever  he  is  to  conquer  flying.  The  flying 
machine  that  will  start  off  some  fine  day,  driven  by  neat  '  little  levers,' 
with  a  nice  open  deck  like  a  liner,  and  all  loaded  up  with  bombshells  and 
guns,  is  the  easy  dream  of  a  literary  man.  In  lives  and  in  treasure  the 
cost  of  the  conquest  of  the  empire  of  the  air  may  even  exceed  all  that 
has  been  spent  in  man's  great  conquest  of  the  sea.  Certainly  it  will  be 
costlier  than  the  greatest  war  that  has  ever  devastated  the  world." 

Perhaps  this  is  a  heightened  and  telling  way  of  putting  it, 
but  there  is  much  sense  in  Mr.  Wells's  argument.  Various 
plans  have  been  suggested  for  lightening  the   danger  to   the 


AERIAL  NAVIGATION  39 

first  experimenters  with  flying  machines.  Some  hold  with  Dr. 
Barton,  that  a  balloon  should  be  attached  to  the  aeroplane, 
to  be  kept  in  reserve  until  the  difficulties  of  balance  are  over- 
come. But,  as  we  have  shown,  the  addition  of  a  balloon  would 
probably  nullify  the  qualities  of  the  flying  machine,  which 
depends  for  its  support  on  a  speed  which  would  apparently 
be  impossible  to  attain  with  so  much  resistance  as  the  air  would 
present  to  the  surface  of  the  balloon.  Others  have  suggested  in 
all  seriousness  that  condemned  criminals  should  be  given  a 
chance  for  their  lives  by  manning  the  first  air-ships !  Others, 
who  are  perhaps  the  most  practical,  suggest  that  trials  should 
always  take  place  over  water,  with  a  fast  torpedo-boat  or  two  in 
attendance  to  pick  up  the  aeronauts  in  case  of  accident.  There 
would  certainly  be  no  harm  in  the  Admiralty  taking  favorable 
notice  of  a  request  for  assistance  of  this  kind.  It  is  possible 
that  the  aeronaut  might  carry  a  parachute  with  which  to  make 
a  leap  for  life  in  case  of  disaster,  or  even  a  small  balloon  which 
could  be  speedily  inflated  from  a  cylinder  of  compressed  hydro- 
gen—  a  kind  of  aerial  life-belt.  But  it  is  certain  that,  what- 
ever precautions  he  adopts,  the  first  man  who  undertakes  to 
steer  a  flying  machine  will  need  even  thicker  plates  of  brass  on 
his  heart  than  Horace  ascribed  to  the  first  sailor.  We  fear  that 
the  conquest  of  the  air  will  demand  a  heavy  toll  of  life  and 
treasure.  Yet  we  do  not  "doubt  that  it  will  one  day  be  achieved, 
if  only  because  the  empire  of  the  world  lies  at  the  feet  of  the 
man  who  constructs  an  air-ship  that  can  be  converted  into  a 
really  efi&cient  engine  of  war. 


40  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


THE  LANGLEY  AERODROME.  * 

By  SAMUEL  P.  LANGLEY. 

I  HAVE  been  asked  to  prepare  an  account  of  some  experi- 
ments I  have  conducted  with  flying  machines,  built  chiefly 
of  steel,  driven  by  steam-engines,  and  which  have  actually 
flown  for  considerable  distances.  There  is  in  preparation  a  de- 
scription of  this  work  for  the  professional  reader;  but  in  view 
of  the  great  general  interest  in  it,  and  of  the  numerous  unau- 
thorized statements  about  it,  it  has  seemed  well  to  write  prc^- 
visionally  the  informal  and  popular  account  which  is  now 
given.  The  work  has  occupied  so  much  of  my  life  that  I  have 
presented  what  I  have  to  say  at  present  in  narrative  form. 

By  "  flying  machine  "  is  here  meant  something  much  heavier 
than  the  air,  and  entirely  different  in  principle  from  the  bal- 
loon, which  floats  only  on  account  of  its  lightness,  as  a  ship  in 
water.  Nature  has  made  her  flying  machine  in  the  bird,  which 
is  nearly  a  thousand  times  as  heavy  as  the  air  its  bulk  displaces, 
and  only  those  who  have  tried  to  rival  it  know  how  inimitable 
her  work  is,  for  the  "way  of  a  bird  in  the  air^'  remains  as 
wonderful  to  us  as  it  was  to  Solomon,  and  the  sight  of  the  bird 
has  constantly  held  this  wonder  before  men's  eyes  and  in  some 
men's  minds,  and  kept  the  flame  of  hope  from  utter  extinction, 
in  spite  of  long  disappointment.  I  well  remember  how,  as  a 
child,  when  lying  in  a  ISTew  England  pasture,  I  watched  a 
hawk  soaring  far  up  in  the  blue,  and  sailing  for  a  long  time 
without  any  motion  of  its  wings,  as  though  it  needed  no  work 
to  sustain  it,  but  was  kept  up  there  by  some  miracle.  But,  how- 
ever sustained,  I  saw  it  sweep,  in  a  few  secnnrls  of  its  leisurely 
flight,  over  a  distance  that  to  me  was  encumbered  with  every 
sort  of  obstacle,  which   did   not  exist  for  it.     The  wall  over 

*  Aerodrome,  from  words  signifying  air-nmners.  the  running  over  the . 
air  being  the  essence  of  its  plan. 

Copyright,  1897,  by  the  S.  S.   McClure  Co. 


THE  LANGLEY  AERODROME  41 

which  I  had  climbed  when  I  left  the  road,  the  ravine  I  had 
crossed,  the  patch  of  undergrowth  through  which  I  had  pushed 
my  way  —  all  these  were  nothing  to  the  bird,  and  while  the 
road  had  only  taken  me  in  one  direction,  the  bird's  level  highway 
led  everywhere,  and  opened  the  way  into  every  nook  and 
corner  of  the  landscape.  How  wonderfully  easy,  too,  was  its 
flight!  There  was  not  a  flutter  of  its  pinions  as  it  swept  over 
the  field,  in  a  motion  which  seemed  as  effortless  as  that  of  its 
shadow. 

After  many  years  and  in  mature  life,  I  was  brought  to  think 
of  these  things  again,  and  to  ask  myself  whether  the  problem 
of  artificial  flight  was  as  hopeless  and  as  absurd  as  it  was 
then  thought  to  be.  Nature  had  solved  it,  and  why  not  man? 
Perhaps  it  was  because  he  had  begun  at  the  wrong  end,  and 
attempted  to  construct  machines  to  fly  before  knowing  the  prin- 
ciples on  which  flight  rested.  I  turned  for  these  principles  to 
my  books,  and  got  no  help.  Sir  Isaac  Newton  had  indicated  a 
rule  for  finding  the  resistance  to  advance  through  the  air,  which 
seemed,  if  correct,  to  call  for  enormous  mechanical  power,  and 
a  distinguished  French  mathematician  had  given  a  formula 
showing  how  rapidly  the  power  must  increase  with  the  velocity 
of  fiight,  and  according  to  which  a  swallow,  to  attain  a  speed 
it  is  now  known  to  reach,  must  be  possessed  of  the  strength  of 
a  man. 

Remembering  the  effortless  fiight  of  the  soaring  bird,  it 
seemed  that  the  first  thing  to  do  was  to  discard  rules  which 
led  to  such  results,  and  to  commence  new  experiments,  not  to 
build  a  flying  machine  at  once,  but  to  find  the  principles  upon 
which  one  should  be  built;  to  find,  for  instance,  with  certainty 
by  direct  trial  how  much  horse-power  was  needed  to  sustain 
a  surface  of  given  weight  by  means  of  its  motion  through  the 
air. 

Having  decided  to  look  for  myself  at  these  questions,  and 
at  first  hand,  the  apparatus  for  this  preliminary  investigation 
was  installed  at  Allegheny,  Pennsylvania,  about  ten  years  ago. 
It  consisted  of  a  ^^  whirling  table  ^'  of  unprecedented  size, 
mounted  in  the  open  air,  and  driven  round  by  a  steam-engine,  so 
that  the  end  of  its  revolving  arm  swept  through  a  circumfer- 
ence of  two  hundred  feet,  at  all  speeds  up  to  seventy  miles 
an  hour.     At  the  end  of  this  arm  was  placed  the  apparatus 


42  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

to  be  tested,  and,  among  other  things,  this  included  surfaces 
disposed  like  wings,  which  were  hung  from  the  end  of  the 
arm  and  dragged  through  the  air,  till  its  resistance  supported 
them  as  a  kite  is  supported  by  the  wind.  One  of  the  first 
things  observed  was  that  if  it  took  a  certain  strain  to  sustain 
a  properly  disposed  weight  while  it  was  stationary  in  the  air, 
then  not  only  to  suspend  it  but  to  advance  it  rapidly  at  the 
same  time,  took  less  strain  than  in  the  first  case.  A  plate 
of  brass  weighing  one  pound,  for  instance,  was  hung  from  the 
end  of  the  arm  by  a  spring,  which  was  drawn  out  till  it  regis- 
tered that  pound  weight  when  the  arm  was  still.  When  the 
arm  was  in  motion,  with  the  spring  pulling  the  plate  after  it, 
it  might  naturally  be  supposed  that,  as  it  was  drawn  faster, 
the  pull  would  be  greater,  but  the  contrary  was  observed,  for 
under  these  circumstances  the  spring  contracted,  till  it  regis- 
tered less  than  an  ounce.  When  the  speed  increased  to  that  of 
a  bird,  the  brass  plate  seemed  to  float  on  the  air;  and  not  only 
this,  but  taking  into  consideration  both  the  strain  and  the 
velocity,  it  was  found  that  absolutely  less  power  was  spent 
to  make  the  plate  move  fast  than  slow,  a  result  which  seemed 
very  extraordinary,  since  in  all  methods  of  land  and  water 
transport  a  high  speed  costs  much  more  power  than  a  slow  one 
for  the  same  distance. 

These  experiments  were  continued  for  three  years,  with  the 
general  conclusion  that  by  simply  moving  any  given  weight 
of  this  form  fast  enough  in  a  horizontal  path  it  was  possible 
to  sustain  it  with  less  than  one-twentieth  of  the  power  that 
Newton's  rule  called  for.  In  particular  it  was  proved  that 
if  we  could  insure  horizontal  flight  without  friction,  about  two 
hundred  pounds  of  such  pktes  could  be  moved  through  the  air 
at  the  speed  of  an  express  train  and  sustained  upon  it,  with 
the  expenditure  of  one  horse-power  —  sustained,  that  is,  with- 
out any  gas  to  lighten  the  weight,  or  by  other  means  of  flotation 
than  the  air  over  which  it  is  made  to  run,  as  a  swift  skater 
runs  safely  over  thin  ice,  or  a  skipping  stone  goes  over  water 
without  sinking,  till  its  speed  is  exhausted.  This  was  saying 
that,  so  far  as  power  alone  was  concerned,  mechanical  flight 
was  theoretically  possible  with  engines  we  could  then  build, 
since  I  was  satisfipd  that  boilprs  and  enerines  could  be  construct- 
ed to  weigh  less  than  twenty  pounds  to  the  horse-power,  and 


THE  LANGLEY  AERODROME  43 

that  one  horse-power  would,  in  theory  at  least,  support  nearly 
ten  times  that  if  the  flight  were  horizontal.  Almost  everything, 
it  will  be  noticed,  depends  on  this,  for  if  the  flight  is  down- 
ward it  will  end  at  the  ground,  and  if  upward  the  machine  will 
be  climbing  an  invisible  hill,  with  the  same  or  a  greater  efl'ort 
than  every  bicycler  experiences  with  a  real  one.  Speed,  then, 
and  this  speed  expended  in  a.  horizontal  course,  were  the  first 
two  requisites.  This  was  not  saying  that  a  flying-machine  could 
be  started  from  the  ground,  guided  into  such  flight  in  any  direc- 
tion, and  brought  back  to  earth  in  safety.  There  was,  then, 
something  more  than  power  needed  —  that  is,  skill  to  use  it,  and 
the  reader  should  notice  the  distinction.  Hitherto  it  had  al- 
ways been  supposed  that  it  was  wholly  the  lack  of  mechanical 
power  to  fly  which  made  mechanical  flight  impossible.  The 
first  stage  of  the  investigation  had  shown  how  much,  or  rather 
how  little,  power  was  needed  in  theory  for  the  horizontal 
flight  of  a  given  weight,  and  the  second  stage,  which  was  now 
to  be  entered  upon,  was  to  show  first  how  to  procure  this  power 
with  as  little  weight  as  possible,  and,  having  it,  how  by  its 
means  to  acquire  this  horizontal  flight  in  practice  —  that  is, 
how  to  acquire  the  m^t  of  flight  or  how  to  build  a  ship  that 
could  actually  navigate  the  air. 

One  thing  which  was  made  clear  by  these  preliminary  ex- 
periments, and  made  clear  nearly  for  the  first  time,  was  that 
if  a  surface  be  made  to  advance  rapidly,  we  secure  an  essential 
advantage  in  our  ability  to  support  it.  Clearly  we  want  the 
advance  to  get  from  place  to  place;  but  it  proves  also  to  be  the 
only  practicable  way  of  supporting  the  thing  at  all,  to  thus 
take  advantage  of  the  inertia  of  the  air,  and  this  point  is  so 
all-important  that  we  will  renew  an  old  illustration  of  it.  The 
idea  in  a  vague  sense  is  as  ancient  as  classical  times.     Pope  says : 

"  Swift  Camilla  scours  the  plain, 
Flies  o'er  the  unbending  corn,  and  skims  along  the  main." 

-  Now,  is  this  really  so  in  the  sense  that  a  Camilla,  by  run- 
ning fast  enough,  could  run  over  the  tops  of  the  corn?  If 
she  ran  fast  enough,  yes;  but  the  idea  may  be  shown  better 
by  the  analogous  case  of  a  skater  who  can  glide  safely  over  the 
thinnest  ice  if  the  speed  is  sufficient. 

Think  of  a  cake  of  ice   of  any  small   size,  suppose  a  foot 


44  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

square.  It  possesses  (like  everything  else  in  nature)  inertia 
or  resistance  to  displacement,  and  this  will  be  less  or  more 
according  to  the  mass  moved.  If  the  skater  stands  during 
a  single  second  upon  this  small  mass  it  will  sink  under  him 
until  he  is  perhaps  waist-deep  in  the  water,  while  a  cake  of  the 
same  width  but  twice  the  length  will  yield  only  about  half  as 
readily  to  his  weight.  On  this  he  will  sink  only  to  his  knees, 
we  may  suppose,  while  if  we  think  of  another  cake  ten  times  as 
long  as  the  first  —  that  is,  one  foot  wide  and  ten  feet  long  — 
we  see  that  on  this,  during  the  same  second,  he  will  not  sink 
above  his  feet.  This  is  all  plain  enough;  but  now  suppose  the 
long  cake  to  be  divided  into  ten  distinct  portions,  then  it  ought 
to  be  equally  clear  that  the  skater  who  glides  over  the  whole 
in  a  second,  distributes  his  weight  over  just  as  much  ice  as 
though  all  ten  were  in  one  solid  piece.  So  it  is  with  the  air. 
Even  the  viewless  air  possesses  inertia;  it  cannot  be  pushed 
aside  without  some  effort;  and  while  the  portion  which  is 
directly  under  the  air-ship  would  not  keep  it  from  falling  sev- 
eral yards  in  the  first  second,  if  the  ship  goes  forward  so  that 
it  runs  or  treads  on  thousands  of  such  portions  in  that  time,  it 
will  sink  in  proportionately  less  degree;  sink,  perhaps,  only 
through  a  fraction  of  an  inch. 

Speed,  then,  is  indispensable  here.  A  balloon,  like  a  ship, 
will  float  over  one  spot  in  safety,  but  our  flying  machine  must 
be  in  motion  to  sustain  itself,  and  in  motion,  in  fact,  before  it 
can  even  begin  to  fly. 

Perhaps  we  may  more  fully  understand  what  is  meant  by 
looking  at  a  boy's  kite.  Every  one  knows  that  it  is  held  by  a 
string  against  the  wind  which  sustains  it,  and  that  it  falls  in 
a  calm.  Most  of  us  remember  that  even  in  a  calm,  if  we  run 
and  draw  it  along,  it  will  still  keep  up,  for  what  is  required 
is  motion  relative  to  the  air,  however  obtained. 

It  can  be  obtained  without  the  cord  if  the  same  pull  is  given 
by  an  engine  and  propellers  strong  enough  to  draw  it,  and 
light  enough  to  be  attached  to  and  sustained  by  it.  The 
stronger  the  pull  and  the  quicker  the  motion,  the  heavier  the 
kite  may  be  made.  It  may  be,  instead  of  a  sheet  of  paper,  a 
sheet  of  metal  even,  like  the  plate  of  brass  which  has  already 
been  mentioned  as  seeming,  when  in  rapid  motion,  to  float  upon 
the  air,  and,  if  it  will  make  the  principle  involved  more  clear, 


THE  LANGLEY  AERODROME  45 

the  reader  may  think  of  our  aerodrome  as  a  great  steel  kite 
made  to  run  fast  enough  over  the  air  to  sustain  itself,  whether 
in  a  calm  or  in  a  wind,  by  means  of  its  propelling  machinery, 
which  takes  the  place  of  the  string. 

And  now  having  the  theory  of  the  flight  before  us,  let  us 


A  Wing  From  a  Soaring  Bird. 

come  to  the  practice.  The  first  thing  will  be  to  provide  an  en- 
gine of  unprecedented  lightness,  that  is  to  furnish  the  power. 
A   few   years   ago    an   engine    that   developed   a    horse-power. 


The  Bones  of  a  Bird's  Wing  and  the  Bones  of  a  Human  Arm,  Drawn  to 
the   Same    Scale,    Showing   the    Close    Resemblance    Between   Them. 

weighed  nearly  as  much  as  the  actual  horse  did.  We  have  got 
to  begin  by  trying  to  make  an  engine  which  shall  weigh,  every- 
thing complete,  boiler  and  all,  not  more  than  twenty  pounds 


46 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


to  the  horse-power,  and  preferably  less  than  ten;  but  even  if  we 
have  done  this  very  hard  thing,  we  may  be  said  to  have  only 
fought  our  way  up  to  an  enormous  difficulty,  for  the  next 
question  will  be  how  to  use  the  power  it  gives  so  as  to  get  a 
horizontal  flight.  We  must  then  consider  through  what  means 
the  power  is  to  be  applied  when  we  get  it,  and  whether  we 
shall,  for  instance,  have  wings  or  screws.  At  first  it  seems  as 
though  Nature  must  know  best,  and  that  since  her  flying  mod- 
els, birds,  are  exclusively  employing  wings,  this  is  the  thing 
for  us ;  but  perhaps  this  is  not  the  case.  If  we  had  imitated  the 
horse  or  the  ox,  and  made  the  machine  which  draws  our  trains 
walk  on  legs,  we  should  undoubtedly  never  have  done  as  well 


The  Skeleton  of  a  Man  and  the  Skeleton  of  a  Bird,  Drawn  to  the  same 
Scale,   Showing  the  Curious  Likeness  Between  Them. 


as  with  the  locomotive  rolling  on  wheels;  or  if  we  had  imitated 
the  whale  with  its  fins,  we  should  not  have  had  so  good  a  boat  as 
we  now  have  in  the  steamship  with  the  paddle-wheels  or  the  screw, 
both  of  which  are  constructions  that  Nature  never  employs. 
Thk  is  so  important  a  point  that  we  will  look  at  the  way  Nature 
got  her  models.  Here  is  a  human  skeleton,  and  here  one  of 
a  bird,  drawn  to  the  same  scale.     Apparently  Nature  made  one 


THE  LANGLEY  AERODROME  47 

out  of  the  other,  or  both  out  of  some  common  type,  and  the 
closer  we  look,  the  more  curious  the  likeness  appears. 

Here  is  a  wing  from  a  soaring  bird,  here  the  same  wing 
stripped  of  its  feathers,  and  here  the  bones  of  a  human  arm, 
on  the  same  scale.  Now,  on  comparing  them  we  see  still  more 
clearly  than  in  the  skeleton,  that  the  bird^s  wing  has  developed 
out  of  something  like  our  own  arm.  First  comes  the  humerus, 
or  principal  bone  of  the  upper  arm,  which  is  in  the  wing  also. 
Next  we  see  that  the  forearm  of  the  bird  repeats  the  radius 
and  ulna,  or  two  bones  of  our  own  forearm,  while  our  wrist 
and  finger-bones  are  modified  in  the  bird  to  carry  the  feathers, 
but  are  still  here.  To  make  the  bird,  then.  Nature  appears  to 
have  taken  what  material  she  had  in  stock,  so  to  speak,  and 
developed  it  into  something  that  would  do.  It  was  all  that  Na- 
ture had  to  work  on,  and  she  has  done  wonderfully  well  with 
such  unpromising  material ;  but  any  one  can  see  that  our  arms 
would  not  be  the  best  thing  to  make  flying  machines  out  of, 
and  that  there  is  no  need  of  our  starting  there  when  we  can 
start  with  something  better  and  develop  that.  Flapping  wings 
might  be  made  on  other  principles,  and  perhaps  will  be  found 
in  future  flying  machines,  but  the  most  promising  thing  to 
try  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  screw  propeller. 

Some  twenty  years  ago,  Penaud,  a  Frenchman,  made  a  toy, 
consisting   of   a   flat,   immovable   sustaining 

I  wing  surface,  a  flat  tail,  and  a  small  propel- 

ling screw.    He  made  the  wing  and  tail  out 
of  paper  or  silk,  and  the  propeller  out  of 
/'"'^  \  cork  and  feathers,  and  it  was  driven  directly 

L y. i         by    strands    of    india-rubber    twisted    lamp- 

y/_^\  lighter  fashion,  and  which  turned  the  wheel 

^^^^  as  they  untwisted. 

The  great  difficulty  of  the  task  of  creating 
^Toy^'(One5ighth  ^  %i^g  machine  may  be  partly  understood 
of  Actual  sfze) .  when  it  is  stated  that  no  machine  in  the  whole 
history  of  invention,  unless  it  were  this  toy  of 
Penaud's,  had  ever,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  flown  for  even  ten 
seconds;  but  somethino^  that  will  actually  fly  must  be  had  to 
teach  the  art  of  "balancing." 

When  experiments  are  made  with  models  moving  on  a  whirl- 


48  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

ing  table  or  running  on  a  railroad  track,  these  are  forced  to 
move  horizontally  and  at  the  same  time  are  held  so  that  they 
cannot  turn  over;  but  in  free  flight  there  vs^ill  be  nothing  to 
secure  this,  unless  the  air-ship  is  so  adjusted  in  all  its  parts  that 
it  tends  to  move  steadily  and  horizontally,  and  the  acquisition 
of  this  adjustment  or  art  of  "  balancing  '^  in  the  air  is  an  enor- 
mously difficult  thing,  and  which,  it  will  be  seen  later,  took 
years  to  acquire. 

My  first  experiments  in  it,  then,  were  with  models  like 
these,  but  from  them  I  got  only  a  rude  idea  how  to  balance  the 
future  aerodrome,  partly  on  account  of  the  brevity  of  their 
flight,  which  only  lasted  a  few  seconds,  partly  on  account  of  its 
irregularity.  Although,  then,  much  time  and  labor  were  spent 
by  me  on  these,  it  was  not  possible  to  learn  much  about  the 
balancing  from  them. 

Thus  it  appeared  that  something  which  could  give  longer  and 
steadier  flights  than  india-rubber  must  be  used  as  a  motor,  even 
for  the  preliminary  trials,  and  calculations  and  experiments 
were  made  upon  the  use  of  compressed  air,  carbonic-acid  gas, 
electricity  in  primary  and  storage  batteries,  and  numerous  other 
contrivances,  but  all  in  vain.  The  gas-engine  promised  to  be 
best  ultimately,  but  nothing  save  steam  gave  any  promise  of 
immediate  success  in  supporting  a  machine  which  would  teach 
these  conditions  of  flight  by  actual  trial,  for  all  were  too  heavy, 
weight  being  the  great  enemy.  It  was  true  also  that  the 
steam-driven  model  could  not  be  properly  constructed  until 
the  principal  conditions  of  flight  were  learned,  nor  these  be 
learned  till  the  working  model  was  experimented  with,  so  that 
it  seemed  that  the  inventor  was  shut  up  in  a  sort  of  vicious 
circle. 

However,  it  was  necessary  to  begin  in  some  way,  or  give 
up  at  the  outset,  and  the  construction  began  with  a  machine 
to  be  driven  by  a  steam-engine,  through  the  means  of  propeller 
wheels,  somewhat  like  the  twin  screws  of  a  modern  steamship, 
but  placed  amidships,  not  at  the  stern.  There  were  to  be 
rigid  and  motionless  wings,  slightly  inclined,  like  the  surface 
of  a  kite,  and  a  construction  was  made  on  this  plan  which 
gave,  if  much  disappointment,  a  good  deal  of  useful  experience. 
It  was  intended  to  make  a  machine  that  would  weigh  twenty 
or  twenty-five  pounds,  constructed  of  steel  tubes.     The  engines 


THE  LANGLEY  AERODROME  49 

were  made  with  the  best  advice  to  be  got  (I  am  not  an  engi- 
neer) ;  but  while  the  boiler  was  a  good  deal  too  heavy,  it  was 
still  too  small  to  get  up  steam  for  the  engines,  which  weighed 
about  four  pounds,  and  could  have  developed  a  horse-power 
if  there  were  steam  enough.  This  machine,  which  was  to  be 
moved  by  two  propelling  screws,  was  labored  on  for  many 
months,  with  the  result  that  the  weight  was  constantly  increasing 
beyond  the  estimate  until,  before  it  was  done,  the  whole  weighed 
over  forty  pounds,  and  yet  could  only  get  steam  for  about  a  half 
horse-power,  which,  after  deductions  for  loss  in  transmission, 
would  give  not  more  than  half  that  gain  in  actual  thrust.  It 
was  clear  that  whatever  pains  it  had  cost,  it  must  be  abandoned, 

This  aerodrome  could  not  then  have  flown;  but  having 
learned  from  it  the  formidable  difficulty  of  making  such  a 
thing  light  enough,  another  was  constructed,  which  was  made 
in  the  other  extreme,  with  two  engines  to  be  driven  by  com- 
pressed air,  the  whole  weighing  but  five  or  six  pounds.  The 
power  proved  insufficient.  Then  came  another,  with  engines  to 
use  carbonic-acid  gas,  which  failed  from  a  similar  cause.  Then 
followed  a  small  one  to  be  run  by  steam,  which  gave  some  prom- 
ise of  success,  but  when  tried  indoors  it  was  found  to  lift  only 
about  one-sixth  of  its  own  weight.  In  each  of  these  the  con- 
struction of  the  whole  was  remodeled  to  get  the  greatest  strength 
and  lightness  combined,  but  though  each  was  an  improvement 
on  its  predecessor,  it  seemed  to  become  more  and  more  doubt- 
ful whether  it  could  ever  be  made  sufficiently  light,  and  whether 
the  desired  end  could  be  reached  at  all. 

The  chief  obstacle  proved  to  be  not  with  the  engines,  which 
were  made  surprisingly  light  after  sufficient  experiment.  The 
great  difficulty  was  to  make  a  boiler  of  almost  no  weight  which 
would  give  steam  enough,  and  this  was  a  most-  wearying  one. 
There  must  be  also  a  certain  amount  of  wing  surface,  and  large 
wings  weighed  prohibitively ;  there  must  be  a  frame  to  hold  all 
together,  and  the  frame,  if  made  strong  enough,  must  yet  weigh 
so  little  that  it  seemed  impossible  to  make  it.  These  were  the 
difficulties  that  I  still  found  myself  in  after  two  years  of 
experiment,  and  it  seemed  at  this  stage  again  as  if  it  must, 
after  all,  be  given  up  as  a  hopeless  task,  for  somehow  the 
thing  had  to  be  built  stronger  and  lighter  yet.  !N"ow,  in  all 
ordinary  construction,  as  in  building  a  steamboat  or  a  hou.^e. 


50  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

engineers  have  what  they  call  a  factor  of  safety.  An  iron 
column,  for  instance,  will  be  made  strong  enough  to  hold  five 
or  ten  times  the  weight  that  is  ever  going  to  be  put  upon  it,  but 
if  we  try  anything  of  the  kind  here  the  construction  will  be  too 
heavy  to  fly.  Everything  in  the  work  has  got  to  be  so  light 
as  to  be  on  the  edge  of  breaking  down  and  disaster,  and  when 
the  breakdown  comes  all  we  can  do  is  to  find  what  is  the  weak- 
est part  and  make  that  part  stronger;  and  in  this  way  work 
went  on,  week  by  week  and  month  by  month,  constantly  altering 
the  form  of  construction  so  as  to  strengthen  the  weakest  parts, 
until,  to  abridge  a  story  which  extended  over  years,  it  was 
finally  brought  nearly  to  the  shape  it  is  now,  where  the  com- 
pleted mechanism,  furnishing  over  a  horse-power,  weighs  col- 
lectively something  less  than  seven  pounds.  This  does  not 
include  water,  the  amount  of  which  depends  on  how  long  we 
are  to  run;  but  the  whole  thing,  as  now  constructed,  boiler, 
fire-grate,  and  all  that  is  required  to  turn  out  an  actual  horse- 
power and  more,  weighs  something  less  than  one  one-hundredth 
part  of  what  the  horse  himself  does.  I  am  here  anticipating; 
but  after  these  first  three  years  something  not  greatly  inferior 
to  this  was  already  reached,  and  so  long  ago  as  that,  there  had 
accordingly  been  secured  mechanical  power  to  fly,  if  that  were 
all  —  but  it  is  not  all. 

After  that  came  years  more  of  delay  arising  from  other 
causes,  and  I  can  hardly  repeat  the  long  story  of  subsequent 
disappointment,  which  commenced  with  the  first  attempts  at 
actual  flight. 

Mechanical  power  to  fly  was,  as  I  say,  obtained  three  years 
ago;  the  machine  could  lift  itself  if  it  ran  along  a  railroad 
track,  and  it  might  seem  as  though,  when  it  could  lift  itself,  the 
problem  was  solved.  1  knew  that  it  was  far  from  solved,  but 
felt  that  the  point  was  reached  where  an  attempt  at  actual 
free  flight  should  be  made,  though  the  anticipated  difficulties 
of  this  were  of  quite  another  order  to  those  experienced  in 
shop  construction.  It  is  enough  to  look  up  at  the  gulls  or 
buzzards,  soaring  overhead,  and  to  watch  the  incessant  rocking 
and  balancing^  which  accompanies  their  gliding  motion  to  ap- 
prehend that  they  find  something  more  than  mere  strength  of 
win^  necessary,  and  that  the  machine  would  have  need  of 
something  more  than  mechanical  power,  though  what  this  some- 


THE  LANGLEY  AERODROME  51 

thing  was,  was  not  clear.  It  looked  as  though  it  might  need 
a  power  like  instinctive  adaptation  to  the  varying  needs  of  each 
moment,  something  that  even  an  intelligent  steersman  on  board 
could  hardly  supply,  but  to  find  what  this  was,  a  trial  had  to 
be  made.  The  iirst  difficulty  seemed  to  be  to  make  the  initial 
flight  in  such  conditions  that  the  machine  would  not  wreck  itself 
at  the  outset,  in  its  descent,  and  the  first  question  was  where  to 
attempt  to  make  the  flight. 

It  became  clear  without  much  thought,  that  since  the  ma- 
chine was  at  first  unprovided  with  any  means  to  save  it  from 
breakage  on  striking  against  the  ground,  it  would  be  well,  in  the 
initial  stage  of  the  experiment,  not  to  have  it  light  on  the 
ground  at  all,  but  on  the  water.  As  it  was  probable  that,  while 
skill  in  launching  was  being  gained,  and  until  after  practice 
had  made  perfect,  failures  would  occur,  and  as  it  was  not  de- 
sired to  make  any  public  exhibition  of  these,  a  great  many 
places  were  examined  along  the  shores  of  the  Potomac,  and 
on  its  high  bluffs,  which  were  condemned  partly  for  their 
publicity,  but  partly  for  another  reason.  In  the  course  of  my 
experiments  I  had  found  out,  among  the  infinite  things  pertain- 
ing to  this  problem,  that  the  machine  must  begin  to  fly  in  the 
face  of  the  wind,  and  just  in  the  opposite  way  to  a  ship,  which 
begins  its  voyage  with  the  wind  behind  it.  If  the  reader 
has  ever  noticed  a  soaring  bird  get  upon  the  wing,  he  will 
see  that  it  does  so  with  the  breeze  against  it,  and  thus  when- 
ever the  aerodrome  is  cast  into  the  air,  it  must  face  a  wind 
which  may  happen  to  blow  from  the  north,  south,  east,  or 
west,  and  we  had  better  not  make  the  launching  station  a 
place  like  the  bank  of  a  river,  where  it  can  go  only  one  way. 
It  was  necessary,  then,  to  send  it  from  something  which  could 
be  turned  in  any  direction,  and  taking  this  need  in  connection 
with  the  desirability  that  at  first  the  air-ship  should  light  in  the 
water,  there  came  at  last  the  idea  (which  seems  obvious  enough 
when  it  is  stated)  of  getting  some  kind  of  a  barge  or  boat,  and 
building  a  small  structure  upon  it,  which  could  house  the  aero- 
drome when  not  in  use,  and  from  whose  flat  roof  it  could  be 
launched  in  any  direction.  Means  for  this  were  limited,  but  a 
little  "scow"  was  procured,  and  on  it  was  built  a  primitive 
sort  of  a  house,  one  story  high,  and  on  the  house  a  platform 
about  ten  feet  higher,  so  that  the  top  of  the  platform  was  about 


52  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

twenty  feet  from  the  water,  and  this  was  to  be  the  place  of 
the  launch.  This  boat  it  was  found  necessary  to  take  down  the 
river  as  much  as  thirty  miles  from  Washington,  w^here  I  then 
was, —  since  no  suitable  place  could  be  found  nearer, —  to  an 
island  having  a  stretch  of  quiet  water  between  it  and  the 
main  shore;  and  here  the  first  experiments  in  attempted  flight 
developed  difficulties  of  a  new  kind,  difficulties  which  were 
partly  anticipated,  but  which  nobody  would  probably  have  con- 
jectured would  be  of  their  actually  formidable  character,  which 
was  such  as  for  a  long  time  to  prevent  any  trial  being  made  at 
all.  They  arose  partly  out  of  the  fact  that  even  such  a  flying 
machine  as  a  soaring  bird  has  to  get  up  an  artificial  speed  be- 
fore it  is  on  the  wing.  Some  soaring  birds  do  this  by  an 
initial  run  upon  the  ground,  and  even  under  the  most  urgent 
pressure  cannot  fly  without  it. 

Take  the  following  graphic  description  of  the  commencement 
of  an  eagle's  flight  (the  writer  was  in  Egypt,  and  the  "  sandy 
soil "  was  that  of  the  banks  of  the  Nile)  : 

"  An  approach  to  within  eighty  3^ards  aroused  the  king  of 
birds  from  his  apathy.  He  partly  opened  his  enormous  wings, 
but  stirs  not  yet  from  his  station.  On  gaining  a  few  feet  more 
he  begins  to  loalh  away,  with  half-expanded  but  motionless 
wings.  Now  for  the  chance,  fire.  A  charge  of  number  three 
from  eleven  bore  rattles  audibly  but  ineffectively  upon  his 
densely  feathered  body;  his  walk  increases  to  a  run,  he  gathers 
speed  with  his  slowly  waving  wings,  and  eventually  leaves  the 
ground.  Eising  at  a  gradual  inclination,  he  mounts  aloft  and 
sails  majestically  away  to  his  place  of  refuge  in  the  Libyan 
range,  distant  at  least  five  miles  from  where  he  rose.  Some 
fragments  of  feathers  denoted  the  spot  where  the  shot  had 
struck  him.  The  marks  of  his  claws  were  traceable  in  the 
sandy  soil,  as,  at  first  with  firm  and  decided  digs,  he  forced 
his  way,  but  as  he  lightened  his  body  and  increased  his  speed 
with  the  aid  of  his  wings,  the  imprints  of  his  talons  gradually 
merged  into  long  scratches.  The  measured  distance  from  the 
point  where  these  vanished,  to  the  place  where  he  had  stood, 
proved  that  with  all  the  stimulus  that  the  shot  must  have  given 
to  his  exertions,  he  had  been  compelled  to  run  full  twenty 
yards  before  he  could  raise  himself  from  the  earth." 

We  have  not  all  had  a  chance  to  see  this  strikijig  illustration 


THE  LANGLET  AERODROME  53 

of  the  necessity  of  getting  np  a  preliminary  speed  before  soar- 
ing, but  many  of  us  have  disturbed  wild  ducks  on  the  water 
and  noticed  them  run  along  it,  flapping  their  wings  for  some 
distance  to  get  velocity  before  they  can  fly,  and  the  necessity 
of  the  initial  velocity  is  at  least  as  great  with  our  flying  machine 
as  it  is  with  a  bird. 

To  get  up  this  preliminary  speed,  many  plans  were  pro- 
posed, one  of  which  was  to  put  the  aerodrome  on  the  deck  of 
a  steamboat  and  go  faster  and  faster  until  the  head  wind  lifted 
it  off  the  deck.  This  sounds  reasonable,  but  is  absolutely  im- 
practicable, for  when  the  aerodrome  is  set  up  anywhere  in  the 
open  air  we  find  that  the  very  slightest  wind  will  turn  it  over, 
unless  it  is  firmly  held.  The  whole  must  be  in  motion,  but  in 
motion  from  something  to  which  it  is  held  till  that  critical  instant 
when  it  is  set  free  as  it  springs  into  the  air. 

The  house-boat  was  fitted  with  an  apparatus  for  launching 
the  aerodrome  with  a  certain  initial  velocity,  and  was  (in  1893) 
taken  down  the  river  and  moored  in  the  stretch  of  quiet  water 
which  I  have  mentioned,  and  it  was  here  that  the  first  trials 
at  launching  were  made,  c/'der  the  difficulties  to  which  I  have 
alluded. 

Perhaps  the  reader  wi,l  take  patience  to  hear  an  abstract 
of  a  part  of  the  diary  of  these  trials,  which  commenced  with 
a  small  aerodrome  which  had  finally  been  built  to  weigh  only 
about  ten  pounds,  which  had  an  engine  of  not  quite  one-half 
horse-power,  and  which  could  lift  much  more  than  was  the- 
oretically necessary  to  enable  it  to  fly.  The  exact  construction 
of  this  early  aerodrome  is  unimportant,  as  it  was  replaced  later 
by  an  improved  one,  of  which  a  drawing  is  given  on  page  58, 
but  it  was  the  first  outcome  of  the  series  of  experiments  which 
had  occupied  three  years,  though  the  disposition  of  its  sup- 
porting surfaces,  which  should  cause  it  to  be  properly  balanced 
in  the  air  and  neither  fly  up  nor  down,  had  yet  to  be  ascer- 
tained by  trial. 

What  must  still  precede  this  trial  was  the  provision  of  the 
apparatus  for  launching  it  into  the  air.  It  is  a  difficult  thing 
to  launch  a  ship,  although  gravity  keeps  it  down  upon  the 
ways,  but  the  problem  here  is  that  of  launching  a  kind  of  ship 
which  is  as  ready  to  go  up  into  the  air  like  a  balloon  as  to  go 
off  sideways,  and  readier  to  do  either  than  to  go  straight  for- 


54  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

ward,  as  it  is  wanted  to  do^,  for  though  there  is  no  gas  in  the 
flying  machine,  its  great  extent  of  wing  surface  renders  it  some- 
thing like  an  albatross  on  a  ship's  deck  —  the  most  unman- 
ageable and  helpless  of  creatures  until  it  is  in  its  proper  ele- 
ment. 

If  there  were  an  absolute  calm,  which  never  really  happens, 
it  would  still  be  impracticable  to  launch  it  as  a  ship  is  launched, 
because  the  wind  made  by  running  it  along  would  get  under 
the  wings  and  turn  it  over.  But  there  is  always  more  or  less 
wind,  and  even  the  gentlest  breeze  was  afterward  found  to  make 
the  air-ship  unmanageable  unless  it  was  absolutely  clamped 
down  to  whatever  served  to  launch  it,  and  when  it  was  thus 
firmly  clamped,  as  it  must  be  at  several  distinct  points,  it  was 
necessary  that  it  should  be  released  simultaneously  at  all  these 
at  the  one  critical  instant  that  it  was  leaping  into  the  air. 
This  is  another  difficult  condition,  but  that  it  is  an  indispensable 
one  may  be  inferred  from  what  has  been  said.  In  the  first  form 
of  launching-piece  this  initial  velocity  was  sought  to  be  at- 
tained by  a  spring,  which  threw  forward  the  supporting  frame 
on  which  the  aerodrome  rested;  but  at  this  time  the  extreme 
susceptibility  of  the  whole  construction  to  injury  from  the 
wind,  and  the  need  of  protecting  it  from  even  the  gentlest 
breeze,  had  not  been  appreciated  by  experience.  On  Novem- 
ber 18,  1893,  the  aerodrome  had  been  taken  down  the  river, 
and  the  whole  day  was  spent  in  waiting  for  a  calm,  as  the  ma- 
chine could  not  be  held  in  position  for  launching  for  two  seconds 
in  the  lightest  breeze.  The  party  returned  to  Washington  and 
came  down  again  on  the  20th,  and  although  it  seemed  that 
there  was  scarcely  any  movement  in  the  air,  what  little  re- 
mained was  enough  to  make  it  impossible  to  maintain  the  aero- 
drome in  position.  It  was  let  go,  notwithstanding,  and  a 
portion  struck  against  the  edge  of  the  launching-piece,  and 
all  fell  into  the  water  before  it  had  an  opportunity  to  fly. 

On  the  24th,  another  trip  was  made,  and  another  day  spent 
ineft'ectively  on  account  of  the  wind.  On  the  27th  there  was 
a  similar  experience,  and  here  four  days  and  four  (round-trip) 
journeys  of  sixty  miles  each  had  been  spent  without  a  single 
result.  This  may  seem  to  be  a  trial  of  patience,  but  it  was 
repeated  in  December,  when  flve  fruitless  trips  were  made, 
and   thus  nine   such   trips   were  made  in  these  two   months, 


THE  LANGLEY  AERODROME  55 

and  but  once  was  the  aerodrome  even  attempted  to  be  launched, 
and  this  attempt  was  attended  with  disaster.  The  principal 
cause  lay,  as  I  have  said,  in  the  unrecognized  amount  of  diifi- 
culty  introduced  even  by  the  very  smallest  wind,  as  a  breeze 
of  three  or  four  miles  an  hour,  hardly  perceptible  to  the  face, 
was  enough  to  keep  the  air-ship  from  resting  in  place  for  the 
critical  seconds  preceding  the  launching. 

If  we  remember  that  this  is  all  irrespective  of  the  fitness  of 
the  launching-piece  itself,  which  at  first  did  not  get  even  a 
chance  for  trial,  some  of  the  difficulties  may  be  better  understood, 
and  there  were  many  others. 

During  most  of  the  year  1894  there  was  the  same  record  of 
defeat.  Five  more  trial  trips  were  made  in  the  spring  and 
summer,  during  which  various  forms  of  launching  apparatus 
were  tried  with  varied  forms  of  disaster.  Then  it  was  sought 
to  hold  the  aerodrome  out  over  the  water  and  let  it  drop 
from  the  greatest  attainable  height,  with  the  hope  that  it  might 
acquire  the  requisite  speed  of  advance  before  the  water  was 
reached.  It  will  hardly  be  anticipated  that  it  was  found  im- 
practicable at  first  to  simply  let  it  drop,  without  something  going 
wrong,  but  so  it  was,  and  it  soon  became  evident  that  even  were 
this  not  the  case,  a  far  greater  time  of  fall  was  requisite  for 
this  method  than  that  at  command.  The  result  was  that  in 
all  these  eleven  months  the  aerodrome  had  not  been  launched, 
owing  to  difficulties  which  seem  so  slight  that  one  who  has  not 
experienced  them  may  wonder  at  the  trouble  they  caused. 

Finally,  in  October,  1894,  an  entirely  new  launching  ap- 
paratus was  completed,  which  embodied  the  dozen  or  more 
requisites,  the  need  for  which  had  been  independently  proved 
in  this  long  process  of  trial  and  error.  Among  these  was  the 
primary  one  that  it  was  capable  of  sending  the  aerodrome  off 
at  the  requisite  initial  speed,  in  the  face  of  a  wind  from  which- 
ever quarter  it  blew,  and  it  had  many  more  facilities  which 
practice  had  proved  indispensable. 

This  new  launching-piece  did  its  work  in  this  respect  effec- 
tively, and  subsequent  disaster  was,  at  any  rate,  not  due  to 
it.  But  now  a  new  series  of  failures  took  place,  which  could  not 
be  attributed  to  any  defect  of  the  launching  apparatus,  but  to 
a  cause  which  was  at  first  obscure,  for  sometimes  the  aerodrome, 
when    successfully   launched,   would   dash   down   forward    and 


56  MODERN  IN^'ENT10^\S 

into  the  water,  and  sometimes  (under  apparently  identically 
like  conditions)  would  sweep  almost  vertically  upward  in  the 
air  and  fall  back,  thus  behaving  in  entirely  opposite  ways, 
although  the  circumstances  of  flight  seemed  to  be  the  same. 
The  cause  of  this  class  of  failure  was  finally  found  in  the  fact 
that  as  soon  as  the  whole  was  upborne  by  the  air,  the  wings 
yielded  under  the  pressure  which  supported  them,  and  were 
momentarily  distorted  from  the  form  designed  and  which  they 
appeared  to  possess.  "  Momentarily,^'  but  enough  to  cause  the 
wind  to  catch  the  top,  directing  the  flight  downward,  or  under 
them,  directing  it  upward,  and  to  wreck  the  experiment.  When 
the  cause  of  the  difficulty  was  found,  the  cure  was  not  easy, 
for  it  was  necessary  to  make  these  great  sustaining  surfaces 
rigid  so  that  they  could  not  bend,  and  to  do  this  without  making 
them  heavy,  since  weight  was  still  the  enemy:  and  nearly  a 
year  passed  in  these  experiments. 

Has  the  reader  enough  of  this  tale  of  disaster?  If  so,  he 
may  be  spared  the  account  of  what  went  on  in  the  same  way. 
Launch  after  launch  was  successively  made.  The  wings  were 
finally,  and  after  infinite  patience  and  labor,  made  at  once 
light  enough  and  strong  enough  to  do  the  work,  and  now  in 
the  long  struggle  the  way  had  been  fought  up  to  the  face  of  the 
final  difficulty,  in  which  nearly  a  year  more  passed,  for  the 
all-important  difficulty  of  balancing  the  aerodrome  was  now 
reached,  where  it  could  be  discriminated  from  other  preliminary 
ones,  which  have  been  alluded  to,  and  which  at  first  obscured 
it.  If  the  reader  will  look  at  the  hawk  or  any  soaring  bird, 
he  will  see  that  as  it  sails  through  the  air  without  flapping 
the  wing,  there  are  hardly  two  consecutive  seconds  of  its  flight 
in  which  it  is  not  swaying  a  little  from  side  to  side,  lifting 
one  wing  or  the  other,  or  turning  in  a  way  that  suggests  an 
acrobat  on  a  tight-rope,  only  that  the  bird  uses  its  widely 
outstretched  wings  in  place  of  the  pole. 

There  is  something,  then,  which  is  difficult  even  for  the 
bird,  in  this  act  of  balancing.  In  fact,  he  is  sailing  so  close 
to  the  wind  in  order  to  fly  at  all,  that  if  he  dips  his  head  but 
the  least  he  will  catch  the  wind  on  the  top  of  his  wing  and 
fall,  as  I  have  seen  gulls  do,  when  they  have  literally  tumbled 
toward  the  water  before  they  could  recover  themselves. 

Beside   this,   there   must   be    some   provision    for   guarding 


THE  LAXGLEY  AERODROME  57 

against  the  incessant;,  irregular  currents  of  the  wind,  for  the 
wind  as  a  wliole  —  and  this  is  a  point  of  prime  importance  — 
is  not  a  thing  moving  along  all-of-a-piece,  like  water  in  the 
Gulf  Stream.  Far  from  it.  The  wind,  when  we  come  to 
study  it,  as  we  have  to  do  here,  is  found  to  be  made  of  innu- 
merable currents  and  counter-currents  which  exist  altogether 
and  simultaneously  in  the  gentlest  breeze,  which  is  in  reality 
going  fifty  ways  at  once,  although,  as  a  whole,  it  may  come 
from  the  east  or  the  west;  and  if  we  could  see  it,  it  would  be 
something  like  seeing  the  rapids  below  Niagara,  where  there 
is  an  infinite  variety  of  motion  in  the  parts,  although  there 
is  a  common  movement  of  the  stream  as  a  whole. 

All  this  has  to  be  provided  for  in  our  mechanical  bird, 
which  has  neither  intelligence  nor  instinct,  without  which,  al- 
though there  be  all  the  power  of  the  engines  requisite,  all  the 
rigidity  of  wing,  all  the  requisite  initial  velocity,  it  still  cannot 
fly.  This  is  what  is  meant  by  balancing,  or  the  disposal  of  the 
parts,  so  that  the  air-ship  will  have  a  position  of  equilibrium 
into  which  it  tends  to  fall  when  it  is  disturbed,  and  which  will 
enable  it  to  move  of  its  own  volition,  as  it  were,  in  a  horizontal 
course. 

Now  the  reader  may  be  prepared  to  look  at  the  apparatus 
which  finally  has  flown..  In  the  completed  form  we  see  two  pairs 
of  wings,  each  slightly  curved,  each  attached  to  a  long  steel  rod 
which  supports  them  both,  and  from  which  depends  the  body  of 
the  machine,  in  which  are  the  boilers,  the  engines,  the  machiner)^, 
and  the  propeller  wheels,  these  latter  being  not  in  the  position  of 
those  of  an  ocean  steamer,  but  more  nearly  amidships.  They  are 
made  sometimes  of  wood,  sometimes  of  steel  and  canvas,  and  are 
between  three  and  four  feet  in  diameter. 

The  hull  itself  is  formed  of  steel  tubing;  the  front  portion  is 
closed  by  a  sheathing  of  metal  which  hides  from  view  the 
fire-grate  and  apparatus  for  heating,  but  allows  us  to  see  a  little 
of  the  coils  of  the  boiler  and  all  of  the  relatively  large  smoke- 
stack in  which  it  ends.  The  conical  vessel  in  front  is  an 
empty  float,  whose  use  is  to  keep  the  whole  from  sinking  if  it 
should  fall  in  the  water. 

This  boiler  supplies  steam  for  an  engine  of  between  one 
and  one  and  one-half  horse-power,  and,  with  its  fire-grate, 
weighs  a  little  over  five  pounds.     This  weight  is  exclusive  of 


58  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

that  of  the  engine,  which  weighs,  with  all  its  moving  parts,  but 
twenty-six  ounces.  Its  duty  is  to  drive  the  propeller  wheels, 
which  it  does  at  rates  varying  from  800  to  1,200,  or  even  more, 
turns  a  minute,  the  highest  number  being  reached  when  the 
whole  is  speeding  freely  ahead. 

The  rudder,  it  will  be  noticed,  is  of  a  shape  very  unlike  that 
of  a  ship,  for  it  is  adapted  both  for  vertical  and  horizontal 
steering.  It  is  impossible  within  the  limits  of  such  an  article 
as  this,^  however,  to  give  an  intelligible  account  of  the  manner 


Diagram  of  the  Aerodrome. 

in  which  it  performs  its  automatic  function.     Sufficient  it  is  to 
say  that  it  does  perform  it. 

"The  width  of  the  wings  from  tip  to  tip  is  between  twelve  and 
thirteen  feet,  and  the  length  of  the  whole  about  sixteen  feet. 
The  weight  is  nearly  thirty  pounds,  of  which  about  one-fourth  is 
contained  in  the  machinery.  The  engine  and  boilers  are  con- 
structed with  an  almost  single  eye  to  economy  of  weight,  not 
of  force,  and  are  very  wasteful  of  steam,  of  which  they  spend 
their  own  weight  in  five  minutes.  This  steam  might  all  be 
recondensed  and  the  water  re-used  by  proper  condensing  ap- 
paratus, but   this   cannot  be   easily   introduced   in   so   small   a 


THE  LANG  LEY  AERODROME  59 

scale  of  construction.  With  it  the  time  of  flight  might  be 
hours  instead  of  minutes,  but  without  it  the  flight  (of  the 
present  aerodrome)  is  limited  to  about  five  minutes,  though 
in  that  time,  as  will  be  seen  presently,  it  can  go  some  miles; 
but  owing  to  the  danger  of  its  leaving  the  surface  of  the  water 
for  that  of  the  land,  and  wrecking  itself  on  shore,  the  time  of 
flight  is  limited  designedly  to  less  than  two  minutes. 

I  have  spared  the  reader  an  account  of  numberless  delays, 
from  continuous  accidents  and  from  failures  in  attempted 
flights,  which  prevented  a  single  entirely  satisfactory  one  dur- 
ing nearly  three  years  after  a  machine  with  power  to  fly  had 
been  attained.  It  is  true  that  the  aerodrome  maintained  itself 
in  the  air  at  many  times,  but  some  disaster  had  so  often  inter- 
vened to  prevent  a  complete  flight  that  the  most  persistent 
hope  must  at  some  time  have  yielded.  On  the  6th  of  May 
of  last  year  I  had  journeyed,  perhaps  for  the  twentieth  time, 
to  the  distant  river  station,  and  recommenced  the  weary  rou- 
tine of  another  launch,  with  very  moderate  expectation  indeed; 
and  when,  on  that,  to  me,  memorable  afternoon  the  signal  was 
given  and  the  aerodrome  sprang  into  the  air,  I  watched  it  from 
the  shore  with  hardly  a  hope  that  the  long  series  of  accidents 
had  come  to  a  close.  And  yet  it  had  come  and  for  the  first  time 
the  aerodrome  swept  continuously  through  the  air  like  a  living 
thing,  and  as  second  after  second  passed  on  the  face  of  the 
stop-watch,  until  a  minute  had  gone  by,  and  it  still  flew  on,  and 
as  I  heard  the  cheering  of  the  few  spectators,  I  felt  that 
something  had  been  accomplished  at  last,  for  never  in  any 
part  of  the  world,  or  in  any  period,  had  any  machine  of  man's 
construction  sustained  itself  in  the  air  before  for  even  half  of 
this  brief  time.  Still  the  aerodrome  went  on  in  a  rising 
course  until,  at  the  end  of  a  minute  and  a  half  (for  which  time 
only  it  was  provided  with  fuel  and  water),  it  had  accomplished 
a  little  over  half  a  mile,  and  now  it  settled  rather  than  fell 
into  the  river  with  a  gentle  descent.  It  was  immediately  taken 
out  and  flown  again  with  equal  success,  nor  was  there  anything 
to  indicate  that  it  might  not  have  flown  indefinitely  except  for 
the  limit  put  upon  it. 

I  was  accompanied  by  my  friend,  Mr.  Alexander  Graham 
Bell,  who  not  only  witnessed  the  flight,  but  took  the  instan- 
taneous photograph   of   it  which   has  been   given.     He  spoke 


60  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

of  it  in  a  communication  to  the   Institute  of  France  in  the 
following  terms : 

Through  the  courtesy  of  Mr.  S.  P.  Langley,  Secretary  of  the  Smith- 
sonian Institution,  I  have  had  on  various  occasions  the  privilege  of  wit- 
nessing his  experiments  with  aerodromes,  and  especially  the  remarkable 
success  attained  by  him  in  experiments  made  on  the  Potomac  River  on 
Wednesday,  May  6,  which  led  me  to  urge  him  to  make  public  some  of 
these  results. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  witnessing  the  successful  flight  of  some  of  these 
aerodromes  more  than  a  year  ago,  but  Professor  Langley's  reluctance  to 
make  the  results  public  at  that  time  prevented  me  from  asking  him,  as  I 
have  done  since,  to  let  me  give  an  account  of  what  I  saw. 

On  the  date  named,  two  ascensions  were  made  by  the  aerodrome,  or 
so-called  "  flying-machine,"  which  I  will  not  describe  here  further  than 
to  say  that  it  appeared  to  me  to  be  built  almost  entirely  of  metal,  and 
driven  by  a  steam-engine  which  I  have  understood  was  carrying  fuel  and 
a  water-supply  for  a  brief  period,  and  which  was  of  extraordinary  light- 
ness. 

The  absolute  weight  of  the  aerodrome,  including  that  of  the  engine  and 
all  appurtenances,  was,  as  I  was  told,  about  twenty-five  pounds,  and  the 
distance,  from  tip  to  tip,  of  the  supporting  surfaces  was,  as  I  observed, 
about  twelve  or  fourteen  feet. 

The  method  of  propulsion  was  by  aerial  screw  propellers,  and  there 
was  no  gas  or  other  aid  for  lifting  it  in  the  air  except  its  own  internal 
energy. 

On  the  occasion  referred  to,  the  aerodrome,  at  a  given  signal,  started 
from  a  platform  about  twenty  feet  above  the  water,  and  rose  at  first  di- 
rectly in  the  face  of  the  wind,  moving  at  all  times  with  remarkable  steadi- 
ness, and  subsequently  swinging  around  in  large  curves  of,  perhaps,  a 
hundred  yards  in  diameter,  and  continually  ascending  until  its  steam  was 
exhausted,  when,  at  a  lapse  of  about  a  minute  and  a  half,  and  at  a  height 
which  I  judged  to  be  between  eighty  and  one  hundred  feet  in  the  air,  the 
wheels  ceased  turning,  and  the  machine,  deprived  of  the  aid  of  its  pro- 
pellers, to  my  surprise  did  not  fall,  but  settled  down  so  softly  and  gently 
that  it  touched  the  water  without  the  least  shock,  and  was  in  face  imme- 
diately ready  for  another  trial. 

In  the  second  trial,  which  followed  directly,  it  repeated  in  nearly  every 
respect  the  actions  of  the  first,  except  that  the  direction  of  its  course  was 
different.  It  ascended  again  in  the  face  of  the  wind,  afterwards  moving 
steadily  and  continually  in  large  curves,  accompanied  with  a  rising  mo- 
tion and  a  lateral  advance.  Its  motion  was,  in  fact,  so  steady  that  I 
think  a  glass  of  water  on  its  surface  would  have  remained  unspilled. 
When  the  steam  gave  out  again,  it  repeated  for  a  second  time  the  ex- 
perience of  the  first  trial  when  the  steam  had  ceased,  and  settled  gently 
and  easily  down.  What  height  it  reached  at  this  trial  I  cannot  say,  as  I 
was  not  so  favorably  placed  as  in  the  first ;  but  I  had  occasion  to  notice 
that  this  time  its  course  took  it  over  a  wooded  promontory,  and  I  was 
relieved  of  some  apprehension  in  seeing  that  it  was  already  so  high  as  to 


THE  LANGLEY  AERODROME  61 

pass  the  tree-tops  by  twenty  or  thirty  feet.  It  reached  the  water  one 
minute  and  thirty-one  seconds  from  the  time  it  started,  at  a  measured 
distance  of  over  nine  hundred  feet  from  the  point  at  which  it  rose. 

This,  however,  was  by  no  means  the  length  of  its  flight.  I  estimated 
from  the  diameter  of  the  curve  described,  from  the  number  of  turns  of 
the  propellers  as  given  by  the  automatic  counter,  after  due  allowance  for 
slip,  and  from  other  measures,  that  the  actual  length  of  flight  on  each 
occasion  was  slightly  over  three  thousand  feet.  It  is  at  least  safe  to  say 
that  each  exceeded  half  an  English  mile. 

From  the  time  and  distance  it  will  be  noticed  that  the  velocity  was 
between  twenty  and  twenty-five  miles  an  hour,  in  a  course  which  was 
constantly  taking  it  "  up  hill."  I  may  add  that  on  a  previous  occasion 
I  have  seen  a  far  higher  velocity  attained  by  the  same  aerodrome  when 
its  course  was  horizontal. 

I  have  no  desire  to  enter  into  detail  further  than  I  have  done,  but  I 
cannot  but  add  that  it  seems  to  me  that  no  one  who  was  present  on  this 
interesting  occasion  could  have  failed  to  recognize  that  the  practicability 
of  mechanical  flight  had  been  demonstrated. 

Alexander  Graham  Bell. 


On  November  38th  I  witnessed,  with  another  aerodrome  of 
somewhat  similar  construction,  a  rather  longer  flight,  in  which 
it  traversed  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile,  and  descended  with 
equal  safety.  In  this  the  speed  was  greater,  or  about  thirty 
miles  an  hour.  We  may  live  to  see  air-ships  a  common  sight, 
but  habit  has  not  dulled  the  edge  of  wonder,  and  I  wish  that  the 
reader  could  have  witnessed  the  actual  spectacle. 

And  now,  it  may  be  asked,  what  has  been  done?  This  has 
been  done:  a  "flying  machine,^'  so  long  a  type  for  ridicule, 
has  really  flown;  it  has  demonstrated  its  practicability  in  the 
only  satisfactory  way  —  by  actually  flying,  and  by  doing  this 
again  and  again,  under  conditions  which  leave  no  doubt. 

There  is  no  room  here  to  enter  on  the  consideration  of  the 
construction  of  larger  machines,  or  to  offer  the  reasons  for  be- 
lieving that  they  may  be  built  to  remain  for  days  in  the  air, 
or  to  travel  at  speeds  higher  than  any  with  which  we  are 
familiar;  neither  is  there  room  to  enter  on  a  consideration  of 
their  commercial  value,  or  of  those  applications  which  will 
probably  first  come  in  the  arts  of  war  rather  than  those  of 
peace;  but  we  may  at  least  see  that  these  may  be  such  as  to 
change  the  whole  conditions  of  warfare,  when  each  of  two  op- 
posing hosts  will  have  its  every  movement  known  to  the  other, 
when  no  lines  of  fortification  will  keep  out  the  foe,  and  when 


62  MODERJN   INVENTIONS 

the  difficulties  of  defending  a  country  against  an  attacking 
enemy  in  the  air  will  be  such  that  we  may  hope  that  this  will 
hasten  rather  than  retard  the  coming  of  the  day  when  war  shall 
cease. 

I  have  thus  far  had  only  a  purely  scientific  interest  in  the 
results  of  these  labors.  Perhaps  if  it  could  have  been  foreseen 
at  the  outset  how  much  labor  there  was  to  be,  how  much  of  life 
would  be  given  to  it,  and  how  much  care,  I  might  have  hesi- 
tated to  enter  upon  it  at  all.  And  now  reward  must  be  looked 
for,  if  reward  there,  be,  in  the  knowledge  that  I  have  done  the 
best  I  could  in  a  difficult  task,  with  the  results  which  it 
may  be  hoped  will  be  useful  to  others.  I  have  brought  to  a 
close  the  portion  of  the  work  which  seemed  to  be  specially 
mine  —  the  demonstration  of  the  practicability  of  mechanical 
flight  —  and  for  the  next  stage,  which  is  the  commercial  and 
practical  development  of  the  idea,  it  is  probable  that  the  world 
may  look  to  others.  The  world,  indeed,  will  be  supine  if  it  do 
not  realize  that  a  new  possibility  has  come  to  it,  and  that  the 
great  universal  highway  overhead  is  now  soon  to  be  opened. 


CIRCLING  THE  EIFFEL  TOWER 


CIRCLING  THE  EIFFEL  TOWER. 

By  EUGENE  P.  LYLE,  Jr. 

AS  early  as  3  o'clock  of  the  morning  of  July  12,  1901, 
a  curious  procession  emerged  from  a  hillside  inclosure 
on  the  bank  of  the  Seine  and  proceeded  toward  the  silent 
race  course  of  Longchamp  across  the  river.  Besides  several 
correspondents,  this  party  was  composed  mostly  of  young  Paris- 
ians, who  slowly  steered  their  automobiles  while  they  bent 
their  heads  back  and  looked  upward.  Following  them,  a  few 
yards  in  the  air,  there  floated  a  strange,  mysterious  shape,  dim 
and  yellowish  against  the  hazy  dawn.  Several  men  on  foot 
guided  the  aerial  contrivance  by  ropes  which  they  clung  to 
jealously.  Their  care  was  natural,  for  they  held  in  leash  the 
first  flying  machine ;  and  by  "  flying  machine "  is  meant  one 
that  really  has  flown,  and  which  deserves  its  name  literally, 
being  far,  far  removed  from  the  monotony  of  the  many  failures 
gone  before.  But  the  young  Parisians  did  not  know  as  yet  that 
it  would  fly,  for  this  was  to  be  its  first  trial  —  its  debut  in  the 
air  —  and  not  one  among  those  gathered  to  witness  it  sus- 
pected that  he  was  to  assist  at  a  spectacle  which  history  may 
possibly  compare  with  the  launching  of  Fulton's  steamboat  or 
with  the  firing  of  the  first  locomotive. 

At  the  race  track  the  balloon  was  pulled  down  till  the  frame- 
work rested  on  the  ground.  A  young  man,  25 "years  of  age, 
went  hurrying  about  the  air-ship,  tinkering  at  it  here  and  there 
till  the  very  last  moment,  while  his  comrades  of  the  Automobile 
and  Aero  clubs  looked  on  and  respectfully  let  him  have  his 
way.  He  was  a  very  little  man,  in  shirt  sleeves  and  a  high 
collar,  with  an  almost  effeminate  speech,  and  very  amiable, 
but  he  seemed  to  know  pretty  well  what  he  was  about.  When 
he  had  examined  the  tube  which  connects  a  cigar-shaped  gaso- 
line tank  with  the  motor,  he  wrapped  a  strap  around  a  wheel 
of  the  motor,  pulled  the  strap  off  again  with  a  sharp  jerk,  and 


04  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

thus  set  the  motor  going.  Involuntarily  the  spectators  jumped 
back^  for  the  gasoline  engine  with  its  four  cylinders  starts  with 
a  crashing  explosion,  so  closely  followed  by  others  that  the 
deafening,  bursting  combustion  is  almost  continuous;  yet 
through  the  framework  there  is  scarcely  any  vibration  at  all, 
only  a  slight  quivering. 

Before  climbing  into  his  basket,  the  slender  little  aeronaut 
took  a  final  look  up  at  the  sky.  He  had  spent  the  last  two 
nights  near  his  balloon,  patiently  waiting  for  favorable  weather. 
He  seemed  satisfied  now,  and  climbed  into  his  tiny  car,  which 
is  just  a  narrow  crating  of  willow  fixed  into  the  forward  nose 
of  the  triangular  framework.  The  guide  rope  was  slackened 
and  the  balloon  lifted  him  slowly  from  the  ground.  He  gave 
a  signal  and  the  guide  rope  was  released.  The  balloon  bounded 
into  the  calm  air.  Those  below,  bending  back  their  necks,  saw 
in  the  stern  two  big  fans,  the  screw  of  the  vessel,  begin  to  turn. 
They  watched  breathlessly,  for  the  question  of  that  moment 
was.  Would  those  fans  serve  as  wings,  or  would  the  balloon 
prove  only  a  balloon  after  all,  obe3dng  no  will  other  than 
that  of  the  breeze  ?  That  has  ever  been  the  question  when  some 
outlandish  contrivance  would  mount  into  the  air,  and  hitherto 
the  answer  at  best  has  been  only  a  sadly  qualified  negative. 
But  this  latest  contrivance  of  the  series  appeared  to  be  acting 
deliberately  and  rationally.  She  pointed  her  nose  slightly  up- 
ward and  rose  higher.  Her  rudder  shifted  and  she  slowly  began 
to  turn,  and,  following  the  track,  made  the  circuit  of  the 
race  course.  On  nearing  the  spectators  the  vessel  pointed  her 
nose  downward  and  slowly  descended.  A  moment  later  the 
little  aeronaut  climbed  from  his  basket  to  the  ground  as  one 
might  alight  from  a  bicycle.  But  the  blood  was  stinging  in 
his  face,  and  joy  fairly  burned  in  his  eyes.  He  appreciated, 
though  only  vaguely,  what  he  had  done.  He  had  been  striving 
to  do  this  same  thing  with  one  balloon  after  another  for  a 
number  of  long,  patient  years.  Before  night  of  that  day  his 
name  was  known  all  over  the  world. 

Once  more,  then,  this  little  Brazilian  aeronaut,  Alberto  San- 
tos-Dumont,  climbed  back  into  his  basket.  He  said  that  he 
would  make  the  round  again,  and  with  a  gesture  indicated  his 
intended  landing  place.  He  mounted  as  easily  as  before,  swept 
around  the  track,  and  descended  neatly  on  the  spot  he  had 


PRELIMINARY  TRIAL  OF  SAXTOS-DUMONT'S  AIRSHIP. 
Leaving  for  the  Trocadero. 


X  '-   *l^     -"     '-Y"-'f 


SIXTEEN-HORSE-POWER  MOTOR  USED  BY  SAXTOS-DUMONT. 
The  motor  gives  the  screw  200  revolutions  a  minute. 


CIRCLING  THE  EIFFEL  TOWER  65 

pointed  out.  This  was  certainly  an  accumulating  of  evidence, 
and  he  had  to  believe  that  this  last  air-ship  of  his,  the  Santos- 
Dumont  V,  had  proved  a  success  on  her  first  trial.  It  was  as 
simple  as  spinning  around  the  track  on  an  automobile.  Four 
more  times  he  did  the  same  thing.  His  chariot  was  perfectly 
manageable,  and  answered  the  rudder  as  docilely  as  a  good 
horse  does  the  reins.  During  all  the  experiments  of  that  morn- 
ing he  had  no  recourse  whatever  to  ballast,  and  was  yet  en- 
tirely master  of  his  altitude.  This  was  due  to  the  guide  rope, 
a  heavy  cord  several  hundred  feet  long,  hanging  from  the  for- 
ward nose  of  the  car.  By  pulling  it  toward  the  center  of 
equilibrium  or  letting  it  out  again,  he  could  incline  the  axis  of 
the  balloon,  pointing  her  up  or  down,  and  then,  by  propulsion 
of  the  fans,  he  could  mount  higher  or  drop  lower  at  will. 
Sometimes  he  attained  a  speed  of  25  miles  an  hour. 

These  triumphs  tending  to  make  him  more  ambitious,  he 
bade  his  friends  au  revoir  and  sailed  off  for  the  near-by  station 
of  Puteaux,  returning  very  soon  without  touching  ground. 
It  was  now  that  he  declared  for  the  little  flying  trip  around 
Eiffel  Tower.  He  refilled  his  petroleum  can  and  off  he  started 
at  an  encouraging  rate,  while  his  friends  stared  after  him,  still 
too  dazed  for  the  hysterics  of  enthusiasm  which  were  soon  to 
possess  them. 

The  distance  from  Longchamp  to  the  tower  is  a  little  more 
than  three  miles,  but  the  air-ship  made  it  in  ten  minutes,  keep- 
ing at  an  altitude  of  from  100  to  300  yards.  It  is  difficult  to 
imagine  what  must  have  been  the  astonishment  of  early-morn- 
ing visitors  on  the  tower  when  they  saw  a  man  in  a  flying 
machine  come  soaring  near  them  and  genially  wave  them  his 
greetings. 

The  bizarre  traveler  rounded  the  tower  and  was  returning 
whence  he  came  when  one  of  the  gear  cords  of  his  rudder 
broke.  So,  as  naturally  as  a  wheelman  dismounts  to  repair 
a  puncture,  he  came  down  into  the  Trocadero  G-ardens,  bor- 
rowed a  ladder,  climbed  up  the  side  of  his  balloon,  tied  the  cord, 
and  remounting,  proceeded  on  his  way  back  to  Longchamp. 
Counting  in  the  delay,  he  had  been  gone  one  hour  and  six 
minutes. 

By  this  time  the  party  at  the  race  course  had  recovered 
sufficiently  from  their  amazement  for  more  or  less  intelligible 

5 


66  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

congratulations.  He  had  solved  the  fatuons  problem  of  aerial 
navigation  —  that  was  their  refrain.  And  almost  the  entire 
press  of  that  day  supported  their  words.  He  had  undoubtedly 
steered  a  balloon.  The  two  essentials  were  there,  and  they  had 
worked  effectively,  namely,  the  propeller  and  the  rudder.  He 
had  sailed  the  four  points  of  the  compass,  he  had  sailed  in 
circles,  and  he  had  sailed  up  and  down,  and  the  bulky  aerostat 
of  Count  Zeppelin  over  Lake  Constance  was  now  rated  as  an 
insignificant  step,  while  the  real,  great  stride  had  just  been 
achieved  by  the  young  Brazilian.  So  his  companions  insisted 
that  he  should  try  at  once  for  the  Grand  Prix. 

Now  it  should  be  explained  that  the  Grand  Prix  referred  to 
is  the  official  goal  of  balloonists.  A  wealthy  member  of  the 
Aero  Club,  Henry  Deutsch,  founded  the  prize  last  year.  The 
amount  is  $20,000,  but  the  conditions  seemed  too  preposter- 
ous; very  ingenious,  only  impossible.  The  conditions  prescribe 
that  the  winning  aeronaut  shall  start  in  his  air-ship  from  the 
Aero  Club  Park  (the  inclosed  hillside  on  the  Seine  near  Long- 
champ),  sail  to  and  around  the  Eiffel  Tower,  and  return  and 
land  in  the  park,  a  trip  of  about  eight  miles,  w^ithout  touching 
ground  or  aught  else  in  the  meantime,  and  ail  within  the 
maximum  time  limit  of  a  half  hour.  Although  this  offered  a 
definite  incentive  to  plunge  into  what  was  one  of  the  most  fas- 
cinating impossibilities  of  the  future,  only  the  flying  machine 
inventors  —  the  synonym  of  a  disordered  mind  —  regarded  fly- 
ing miachines  with  any  respect.  This  fascination  had  long  en- 
slaved the  rich  young  Brazilian,  when  one  day  the  Grand  Prix 
was  founded,  and  he  constructed  his  Santos-Dumont  IV  to  win 
it,  seeking  thereby  the  official  recording  of  a  definite  triumph. 
For  him  the  $20,000  would  be  merely  a  little  purse  for  the 
building  of  more  air-ships.  But  before  he  housed  his  aerial 
pet,  Santos-Dumont  Y,  in  the  balloon  shed  at  the  park  that 
morning  of  July  12,  he  announced  to  his  friends  that  he  would 
try  again  for  the  Grand  Prix. 

At  4  o'clock  the  next  morning,  July  13,  the  sky  wgs  mot- 
tled with  clouds,  while  a  choppy  wind  blew  from  the  west; 
but  as  there  was  no  change  for  the  worse  by  5  o'clock,  Santos- 
Dumont  began  making  preparations  for  his  flight.  Long  before 
he  was  through  with  testing  the  parts  of  his  machine,  a  crowd 
had  begun  to  gather  in  the  park  —  wheelmen,  chauffeurs,  pho- 


CIRCLING  THE  EIFFEL  TOWER  67 

tographers,  and  correspondents.  At  6.20  the  great  sliding 
doors  of  the  balloon  house  were  pushed  open,  and  the  massive 
inflated  occupant  was  towed  out  into  the  open  space  of  the 
park.  The  big,  pointed  nose  of  the  balloon  and  its  fish-like 
belly  resembled  a  shark  gliding  with  lazy  craft  from  a  shadow 
into  light  waters.  In  the  basket  of  the  car  stood  the  coatless 
aeronaut,  who  laughed  and  chatted  like  a  boy  with  the  crowd 
around  him.  The  prize  committee  was  there  and  expressed  its 
hopes  for  a  successful  trial.  This  committee  is  composed  of 
Count  Henri  de  la  Vaulx,  the  vice-president  of  the  Aero  Club, 
who  intends  shortly  to  cross  the  Mediterranean  in  a  balloon; 
Prince  Roland  Bonaparte,  Henry  Deutsch,  and  two  members 
of  the  National  Institute,  MM.  Bouquet  de  la  Grye  and  Cail- 
letet. 

From  the  very  first  the  conditions  did  not  show  themselves 
favorable  for  the  attempt.  The  wind  was  blowing  at  the  rate 
of  six  or  seven  yards  a  second.  The  change  of  temperature 
from  the  balloon  house  to  the  cool  morning  air  had  somewhat 
condensed  the  hydrogen  gas  of  the  balloon,  so  that  one  end 
flapped  about  in  a  sadly  flabby  manner.  Air  was  pumped  into 
the  air  reservoir,  or  ballonet,  inside  the  balloon,  but  still  the 
desired  rigidity  was  not  attained.  But,  more  discouraging  yet, 
when  the  motor  was  started,  its  continuous  .explosions  gave  to 
the  practiced  ear  signs  of  mechanical  discord.  It  should  be 
stated  that  this  motor  can  be  started  only  from  the  ground, 
by  the  strap  twisted  around  the  wheel,  as  already  mentioned. 
Once  the  motor  stops  while  in  air,  there  is  no  way  to  set  it 
going  again  without  coming  down  to  earth. 

Nevertheless,  Santos-Dumont,  with  his  sleeves  rolled  up,* 
fixed  himself  once  more  in  his  basket  with  much  the  same  air 
as  a  workman  seats  himself  before  his  lathe  for  tlie  day^s  work. 
His  eye  took  a  careful  survey  of  the  entire  air-ship  lest  some 
preliminary  had  been  overlooked.  He  counted  the  ballast  bags 
under  his  feet  in  the  basket,  he  looked  to  the  canvas  pocket  of 
loose  sand  at  either  hand,  then  saw  to  his  guide  rope.  Every- 
thing appeared  to  be.  all  right.  Several  friends  shook  his  hand, 
among  them  Mr,  Deutsch.  Count  de  la  Yaulx,  with  watch  in 
hand,  stood  ready  to  begin  counting  the  official  time.  The  chat- 
tering stopped,  and  the  place  was  very  still  as  the  man  holding 
the  guide  rope  awaited  the  signal  to  let  go.    Then  the  little  man 


68  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

in  the  basket  above  them  raised  his  hand  and  shouted.  On  the 
second  the  timekeeper  (Count  de  la  Vaulx)  called  off  6.41,  and 
man  and  balloon  would  have  to  be  back  by  eleven  minutes 
after  7. 

At  first  it  did  not  look  like  a  race  against  time.  The  balloon 
rose  sluggishly,  and  Santos-Dumont  had  to  dump  out  bag  after 
bag  of  sand,  till  finally  the  guide  rope  was  clear  of  the  trees. 
All  this  gave  him  no  opportunity  to  think  of  his  direction,  and 
he  was  drifting  toward  Versailles;  but  while  yet  over  the  Seine 
he  pulled  his  rudder  ropes  taut.  Then  slowly,  gracefully,  the 
enormous  spindle  veered  round  and  pointed  its  nose  toward 
the  Eiffel  Tower.  The  fans  spun  energetically,  and  the  air-ship 
settled  down  to  business-like  traveling.  It  marked  a  straight, 
decided  line  for  its  goal,  then  followed  the  chosen  route  with 
a  considerable  speed.  Soon  the  chug-chugging  of  the  motor 
could  be  heard  no  longer  by  the  spectators,  and  the  balloon  and 
car  grew  smaller  and  smaller  in  its  halo  of  light  smoke.  Those 
in  the  park  saw  only  the  screw  and  the  rear  of  the  balloon,  like 
the  stern  of  a  steamer  in  dry  dock.  Before  long  only  a  dot 
remained  against  the  sky,  but  the  dot  was  still  moving.  Stead- 
ily it  neared  the  shadowy  obelisk  line  v/hich  was  Eiffel  Tower, 
then  scarcely  visible  in  the  heat  mist  of  Paris.  Suddenly  the 
dot  vanished  behind  the  tower,  thus  bringing  together  man's 
two  ways  of  getting  into  the  air,  the  one  from  a  century  just 
closed,  the  other  from  a  century  just  beginning. 

To  the  throng  waiting  in  the  park  the  dot  seemed  blotted 
from  sight  for  a  long  while,  but  at  last  they  could  distinguish 
it  emerging  from  the  foggy  ladder-shape  outlined  against  the 
sky.  They  could  not  tell,  however,  whether  it  had  really  gone 
around  the  tower.  If  Santos-Dumont  had  not  doubled  the 
tower,  then  the  greater  interest  in  his  return  was  lost.  It  would 
be  no  longer  a  race.  Still  the  people  kept  count  of  the  minutes 
as  they  watched  the  speck  grow  larger  and  larger,  and  gradually 
evolve  into  the  form  of  an  air-ship.  The  morning  sun  caught 
on  the  burnished  copper  of  the  petroleum  reservoir,  and  the 
man  could  be  seen  in  his  car,  and  then  a  messenger  in  an  auto- 
mobile raced  up  to  the  park  gate.  He  brought  the  marking 
of  the  official  timekeeper  on  Eiffel  Tower,  and  his  announce- 
ment laid  all  doubts.  The  8antos-Diimont  V  had  doubled  the 
tower,  he  announced,  passing  20  yards  to  leeward,  time  6.54. 


CIRCLING  THE  EIFFEL  TOWER  69 

That  meant  half  the  journey  in  thirteen  minutes,  a  gain  of 
two  minutes. 

The  crowd  gazed  upward  to  the  still  distant  balloon,  and  some 
in  their  enthusiasm  yelled  to  the  aeronaut  to  hurry,  hurry 
faster.  The  Grand  Prix  was  won,  of  that  everybody  was  certain. 
But  as  the  minutes  were  counted  off,  and  the  balloon  did  not 
seem  to  be  approaching  with  the  speed  expected,  doubts  began 
to  grow  among  the  eager  ones.  Only  four  minutes  left,  only 
three.  Was  he  going  to  lose,  after  all  ?  There  he  was,  steering 
far  above  the  river,  and  they  could  even  hear  the  popping  of 
his  motor.  Evidently  something  was  wrong.  The  air-ship 
labored  desperately  in  the  face  of  the  wind,  and  when  at  last 
it  hovered  over  the  park  the  time  was  7.22  —  eleven  minutes 
late.  And  yet  he  had  not  landed.  Instead,  the  wind  swept- 
him  back  across  the  river.  Twice  he  returned  with  extreme 
difficulty;  and  then,  suddenly,  the  motor  stopped.  With  that 
the  Santos-Dumont  V  was  as  an  ordinary  balloon,  and  she  went 
with  the  wind,  off  over  the  Bois  de  Boulogne.  A  moment  later 
she  came  down  heavily  and  disappeared  in  the  trees. 

A  dozen  friends  sprang  to  their  automobiles  and  raced  away 
in  that  direction.  Each  one  dreaded  finding  Santos-Dumont 
probably  mangled  and  lifeless.  They  found  him  on  his  feet, 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  reflectively  looking  up  at  his  air- 
ship among  the  top  branches  of  some  chestnut  trees  in  the 
grounds  of  Baron  Edmund  de  Eothschild,  Boulevard  de 
Boulogne. 

"  I  should  like  to  have  a  glass  of  beer,"  he  announced,  which 
called  forth  a  nervous  laugh  of  relief. 

Now,  next  door  to  Eothschild  lives  His  Eoyal  Highness,  the 
Comte  d'Eu,  and  from  a  window  Her  Imperial  Highness,  the 
Comtess  d'Eu,  had  been  watching  the  antics  of  the  flying 
machine  and  its  finale.  Her  imperial  highness  is  a  daughter  of 
Dom  Pedro,  of  Brazil,  and  consequ.ently  a  compatriot  of  young 
Santos-Dumont.  As  there  ought  to  be  a  princess  somewhere  in 
an  air-ship  story,  it  proved  quite  convenient  that  her  imperial 
highness  lived  next  to  the  Baron  Edmund  de  Eothschild,  for 
she  sent  over  a  hamper  of  champagne  and  refreshments,  with 
kind  inquiries.  Santos  and  his  rescuers  disposed  of  the  cham- 
pagne and  refreshments;  and  then  Santos,  coatless,  dusty,  and 
mussed  up,  hurried  over  to  thank  the  princess.     Her  highness 


70  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

spoke  words  of  encouragement  and  pointed  to  Dom  Pedro's 
picture,  and  then  Santos  went  back  to  untangle  his  air-ship 
from  the  chestnuts. 

When  he  had  cut  the  wires  between  the  balloon  and  the  car, 
he  discovered,  greatly  to  his  surprise,  that  the  damage  was 
really  nothing.  The  delicate  skeleton  framework  was  unhurt, 
except  for  a  slight  spraining  of  the  propeller  shaft.  Then  the 
young  man  was  jubilant,  for  his  treasure  had  certainly  looked 
like  a  wreck.  He  could  listen  to  questions  at  last,  and  he  gave 
his  story  of  the  flight  and  fall,  which  you  may  be  sure  was  lis- 
tened to  eagerly.  To  say  nothing  of  the  strong  wind  he  had  to 
fight  against  in  coming  back,  his  chief  trouble  was  with  his 
motor.  Soon  after  going  up  one  of  the  cylinders  had  stopped, 
and  a  little  later  a  second.  As  he  could  not  restart  them,  his 
motive  power  was  thus  cut  down  one-half  for  the  rest  of  the 
trip,  the  motor  at  last  giving  out  altogether.  The  wind,  of 
course,  carried  him  back  over  the  river,  and  as  he  did  not 
wish  to  come  down  in  the  streets  of  Boulogne  beyond,  and  per- 
haps on  top  of  somebody,  and  be  taken  up  for  reckless  balloon- 
ing, he  decided  to  come  down  quick  Avhere  he  was.  So  he  ripped 
out  a  panel  of  silk  and  found  himself  in  the  tree  tops. 

But,  after  all,  the  only  thing  that  kept  him  from  winning 
the  prize  was  the  time  limit.  It  must  be  considered,  however, 
that  the  donor  asks  the  competitors  to  do  something  in  a  half 
hour  which  has  never  been  done  before,  although  men  have 
been  trying  for  a  century,  and  that  is  to  steer  a  balloon. 
Weighed  against  a  century,  a  delay  of  eleven  minutes  can  not 
count  for  much  against  success. 

Within  a  week  the  Santos-Dvmont  V  was  all  shipshape  again, 
and  awaiting  good  weather  for  another  try  at  the  Grand  Prix. 
•The  weather,  though,  had  been  unobliging,  and  Parisians  had 
haunted  the  Aero  Club  Park  in  vain.  Sunday,  August  4,  San- 
tos-Dumont  did,  in  fact,  start  for  another  trial,  but  he  had  not 
gone  a  quarter  of  the  distance  when  he  turned  around  and  came 
back.  The  guide  rope  was  not  working  right.  Another  spec- 
tacle; however,  rather  offset  the  popular  disappointment.  When 
fully  600  feet  in  air,  the  plucky  little  fellow  climbed  out  of  his 
backet  and  moved  around  on  the  slender  framework  to  adjust 
a  cord  that  did  not  suit  him. 

It  was  on  August  8,  1901,  that  M.  Santos-Dumont  made  a 


CIRCLING  THE  EIFFEL  TOWER  71 

third  trial  for  the  Grand  Prix,  with  the  odd-looking  air-ship 
constructed  of  two  cigar-shaped  balloons,  w^ith  the  car  for  the 
basket  and  motors  suspended  between  them.  Instead  of  disas- 
ter and  destruction,  he  began  with  every  prospect  of  success, 
and  strengthened  his  claim  as  a  navigator  of  the  air.  He 
started  from  the  park  at  6.12  a.  m.,  under  the  best  of  condi- 
tions. His  balloon  rose  quickly  in  the  almost  absolute  calm,  so 
that  without  loss  of  time  he  started  the  screw  and  veered  round 
in  a  straight  line  for  Eiffel  Tower.  The  trip  there  was  as  a  bird's 
flight,  clean-cut  and  unswerving.  He  gained  and  rounded  the 
tower  in  nine  minutes,  a  gain  of  four  minutes  over  his  first  trial, 
or  less  than  one-third  of  the  time  limit.  He  had,  therefore, 
twenty-one  minutes  in  which  to  make  the  same  trip  back.  It 
would  be  stubborn  hard  luck  that  could  keep  him  from  the 
prize.     But  that  is  what  happened. 

The  tower  was  ho  sooner  rounded  than  difficulties  seemed 
to  begin.  Without  apparent  cause  the  air-ship  suddenly  pointed 
upward,  and  mounted  100  yards  higher  in  air.  Then  it  began 
to  sink  toward  the  roofs,  bereft  of  buoyant  force  or  vitality. 
It  was  beyond  control,  and  its  navigator  was  being  tossed  in 
mid-air,  more  helpless  than  a  sailor  clinging  to  a  plank.  He 
started  the  ventilators,  to  inflate  the  ballonet  with  air  and 
make  the  balloon  rigid,  but  as  a  climax  to  despair  the  ventilators 
would  not  work.  The  balloon  became  flabb}',  and  even  its  ends 
doubled  on  itself  like  a  pocketknife.  This  brought  the  wires 
that  suspend  the  framework  into  trouble  with  the  turning  screw, 
and  in  a  moment  several  of  them  snapped.  Just  in  time  to 
save  himself  from  being  cut  away  from  the  balloon  entirely  and 
dashed  to  the  ground,  Santos  stopped  the  screw,  and  then  the 
unwieldy  air-ship  dragged  lower  to  the  earth,  and  was  soon 
skimming  over  some  high  hotels  that  had  been  built  for  the 
exposition.  Once  he  was  jolted  against  a  cornice,  and  once 
again  he  was  so  low  that  his  guide  rope  coiled  along  the  ground. 
A  carpenter  seized  the  end  and  wrapped  it  around  the  iron  bars 
of  a  window.  But  the  breeze  carried  the  balloon  on,  and  with 
a  jerk  the  ^ide  rope  tore  out  the  iron  bars.  On  the  edge  of 
the  next  hotel  roof  the  balloon  was  stranded  and  wrecked.  The 
framework,  though,'  holding  the  heavv  motor  and  the  man, 
clanded  from  its  wirinsf  over  the  wall  of  the  building.  A 
moment  it  hung  suspended,  then  its  lower  end  settled  on  the 


72  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

roof  of  a  two-story  restaurant  next  door,  and  its  upper  end 
against  the  wall  of  the  hotel.  There  was.  a  space  between  the 
two  buildings,  and  the  framework  spanned  this  space  almost 
perpendicularly.  The  delicate  wooden  beams  strained  and 
cracked,  ready  to  break  and  bring  its  load  to  the  ground. 

A  company  of  firemen  were  on  hand  almost  at  once,  and  from 
the  top  of  the  hotel  they  threw  a  rope  to  Santos-Dumont,  who 
tied  it  around  his  waist  and  allowed  himself  to  be  drawn  up. 
He  had  not  suffered  a  scratch,  but  he  suffered  much  more  than 
that  when  the  firemen  began  to  extract  his  beloved  air-ship. 
With  each  cracking  of  wood  he  shuddered  as  though  it  were  a 
bone;  yet  despite  his  anxiety  and  the  care  of  the  firemen,  the 
framework  broke  into  halves,  and  was  soon  found  to  be  irrepa- 
rable, and  the  same  fate  met  the  balloon.  The  only  consolation 
was  the  motor,  which  seemed  to  be  unhurt. 

"  Now,  what  are  you  going  to  do  ? "  one  of  his  friends 
demanded. 

'^  Why,  begin  again,  of  course.    One  has  to  have  patience." 

And  that  same  day  he  gave  orders  for  another  balloon,  which 
will  be  the  balloon  of  the  air-ship  Santos-Dumont  YI.  The 
new  air-ship  will  be  on  the  same  pattern  as  the  old,  except  with 
a  slightly  greater  cubic  capacity.  It  can  hardly  be  ready  for  a 
prize  trial,  however,  before  the  contests  next  spring.  Still,  San- 
tos-Dumont knows  now  that  he  can  navigate  the  air,  and  he  is 
merely  going  to  do  again  what  he  has  already  done. 

But  M.  Santos-Dumont  will  soon  have  competitors,  among 
them  M.  Deutsch  himself,  who  expects  to  put  in  the  field  within 
a  short  time  a  colossus  65  yards  long,  with  a  capacity  of  over 
2,500  cubic  yards,  and  a  gasoline  motor  of  60  horse-power. 

Eecall  the  flying  machine  of  your  imagination,  and  you  will 
have  ready-made  for  your  mJnd's  eye  a  likeness  of  this  Santos- 
Dumont  V.  It  is  simply  that  conventional  creature  pictured  in 
the  usual  wild  tale  of  the  future,  the  regulation  cigar-shaped 
thing  ^mid  a  vague  complication  of  wings  and  rudders  and 
cords  and  cylinders.  The  gas  bag  is  a  tremendous  cigar,  while 
the  framework  beneath  for  basket  and  motor  is  a  smaller  tre- 
mendous cigar.  Now,  there  is  a  reason  for  this  shape  quite 
apart  from  the  demands  of  twenty-first  century  romances.  It 
would  be  as  absurd  to  try  to  steer  a  spherical  balloon  as  to  guide 
a  spherical  steamboat.     The  spindle  form  offers  less  resistance 


CIRCLING  THE  EIFFEL  TOWER  T3 

to  air-currents,  so  almost  from  their  earliest  experiments  the 
flying  machine  architects  have  adopted  the  cigar  for  a  model. 
To  secure  rigidit}^  they  put  an  air  balloon,  or  ballonet,  inside 
the  gas  balloon,  and  when  a  cooling  cloud  or  change  of  tempera- 
ture contracts  the  gas,  they  pump  air  as  needed  into  the  bal- 
lonet,  which  makes  the  entire  bag  tight  and  snug.  Santos- 
Dumont  first  fills  his  balloon  as  full  as  possible  with  pure  hydro- 
gen, and  the  inner  balloon  lies  empty  in  the  belly  of  the  big 
one.  He  thus  has  as  a  margin  against  condensation  the  ballonet's 
capacity,  50  cubic  yards.  The  ballonet  fills  with  air  auto- 
matically from  a  pump  worked  by  the  motor,  and  in  case  of 
expansion  and  too  great  pressure  the  springs  in  the  valves  are 
forced  open  and  the  air  is  let  out  first,  and  the  gas  afterwards, 
if  necessary.  In  the  photographs  3^ou  may  see  the  air  duct 
hanging  from  the  balloon  to  the  pump. 


Fig.  1.  Diagram  or  Santos-Dumont's  Balloon. 
G  Represents  the  Large  Balloon  Filled  with  Hydrogen;  A,  the  Interior 
Air-balloon :  VV,  Automatic  Gas  Valves ;  AV,  the  Air  Valve ;  TV,  the 
lube  by  Which  the  Rotary  Ventilator  Fills  the  Interior  Air-Balloon. 

The  tiny  steel  threads  that  suspend  the  framework  seem 
absurdly  inadequate.  Near  the  ends  they  are  twisted  into 
springs,  which  allow  for  a  slight  rocking  caused  by  the  motor^s 
vibration.  A  few  yards  away  the  fine  piano  wires  are  invisible, 
and  then  the  man  in  his  aerial  car  appears  to  follow  as  a  satellite 
under  the  balloon.  The  great  yellowish  bag  of  hydrogen,  371/2 
yards  long,  6%  yards  in  diameter,  with  a  capacity  of  715  cubic 
yards,  looks  sleek  and  peeled,  like  the  pigskin  of  an  enormous 
Rugby  football,  and  nothing  at  all  like  silk.  Each  panel  in 
the  texture  has  been  rigorously  tested  under  pressure  and  is 
capable  of  the  maximum  strain  exacted.  The  elongated,  tri- 
angular car  beneath  is  constructed  of  three  slender  unpainted 
pine  beams  with  cross-pieces.     When  examined  as  it  lies  stalled 


74  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

the  long  length  of  the  balloon  house,  this  car  appears  altogether 
too  delicate  for  carrying  a  man  and  an  engine  several  hundred 
yards  over  the  house-tops.  Though  over  59  feet  long,  it  weighs 
only  110  pounds,  and  early  in  the  spring  of  1900  the  inventor 
was  able  to  pack  it  in  his  trunk  by  sections,  bringing  it  from 
Nice,  where  it  had  been  made  during  the  winter,  to  Paris.  The 
carefully  chosen  strips,  bent  to  form  the  long  curves  of  the 
triangular  frame  complete,  are  never  thicker  than  two  of  your 
fingers  put  together.  During  this  spring  he  remounted  them 
in  his  workshop  at  the  Aero  Club  Park,  the  workshop  being 
also  the  great  bam  of  a  balloon  house.  He  made  the  joints  of 
aluminum  and  fastened  the  cross-pieces  with  thin  steel  wire. 
About  8  yards  from  the  stern  he  suspended  the  gasoline  auto- 
mobile motor  from  the  upper  beam  of  the  triangle  by  piano 
wires.  Here  the  compact  little  engine  of  4  C3dinders  and  16 
horse-power  hangs  like  a  spider  in  the  center  of  her  web.  Over 
each  cylinder  spins  a  ventilating  fan  to  prevent  overheating. 
The  motor  turns  a  shaft,  and  attached  to  the  shaft  is  a  pro- 
peller, exactly  like  the  screw  of  a  ship.  The  two  wings  of  the 
screw  are  of  silk  stretched  over  their  frames  like  the  head  of 
a  drum.  They  measure  414.  yards.  Ordinarily  the  industrious 
little  motor  spins  the  shaft  around  at  the  rate  of  200  revolutions 
to  the  minute;  but  since  putting  things  into  shape  after  his 
descent  of  July  13  the  inventor  has  been  able  to  increase  the 
speed  to  210  revolutions  a  minute.  The  whirling  pinions  then 
have  a  striking  force  of  175  pounds.  Above  the  propeller  and 
under  the  tail  of  the  balloon  is  the  rudder,  a  curved  triangular 
blade  made  in  the  same  way  as  the  wings.  As  both  propeller 
and  rudder  are  thus  placed  at  the  stern,  the  forward  end  is  left 
free  for  the  guide  rope,  by  which  the  air-ship  may  be  inclined 
upward  or  downward.  By  this  device  the  aeronaut  may  ascend 
or  descend.  In  his  former  balloons  he  used  sliding  ballast  bags 
at  either  end  to  maintain  his  equilibrium,  but  in  this  last  bal- 
loon he  had  been  able  to  discard  these. 

To  readjust  the  balance  against  the  motor,  as  well  as  to  equal- 
ize the  strain  on  the  wires  suspending  the  framework,  the  basket 
is  placed  forward  of  the  center  by  nearly  8  yards.  This  basket 
is  a  deep,  narrow  affair  of  open  willow  work.  A  larger  man 
than  the  wiry  aeronaut  would  have  to  squeeze  to  climb  into  it. 
On  either  side  a  narrow  wooden  bar  stretches  out  3  or  4  yards, 


CIRCLING  THE  EIFFEL  TOWER  75 

which  is  designed  to  prevent  undue  tipping  to  one  side  or  the 
other.  As  the  pilot  stands  there  in  his  basket  he  resembles  a 
performer  on  a  tight  rope  with  his  balancing  pole.  Since  the 
head  of  the  concern  is  in  the  basket,  all  the  many  wires  that 
operate  one  thing  or  another  communicate  with  this  central 
administrative  bureau  like  the  nerves  with  the  brain.  On  the 
front  edge  of  the  basket  is  a  wheel,  reall}^  the  pilot^s  wheel,  but 
placed  horizontally  as  on  an  automobile.  This  operates  the 
rudder.  To  switch  the  propeller  shaft  from  the  motor  and  stop 
the  fans  there  is  an  electric  key.  For  each  of  the  valves  in  the 
belly  of  the  balloon  there  is  a  wire  end  at  the  basket,  besides 
still  another  one  for  the  big  valve  in  the  top  should  the  balloon- 
ist wish  to  descend  rapidly,  and,  yet  again,  there  is  an  emer- 
gency cord,  which  tears  a  panel  out  of  the  silk  and  lets  the  gas 
fairly  pour  out.  It  was  this  cord  that  Santos-Dumont  pulled 
when  he  chose  the  Rothschild  chestnut  trees  between  the  Seine 
and  the  streets  of  Boulogne.  As  to  ballast,  he  has  small  bags 
of  sand  under  his  feet  and  a  canvas  bag  on  either  hand,  about 
100  pounds  in  all.  Thus,  it  will  be  seen  that  he  has  several 
things  to  think  about  at  the  same  time.  Though  seemingly 
very  complicated,  this  air-ship  that  really  navigates  the  air  is, 
after  all,  a  simple  machine,  and  by  the  side  of  the  wonderfully 
made  air-ships  that  yet  do  not  navigate  the  air  it  is  a  child's 
toy  for  simplicity.  It  is  one-fourth  as  large  as  the  Zeppelin  bal- 
loon. In  fact,  it  is  the  smallest  motor  aerostat  that  has  been 
constructed  up  to  date.  The  entire  car  complete  weighs  but 
550  pounds. 

To  arrive  at  this  result,  which  is  conceded  to  be  the  first 
actual  steerable  air-ship,  Santos-Dumont  has  tinkered  away 
some  five  preceding  balloons.  He  came  to  Paris  expressly  to 
make  his  career  in  the  air.  He  made  farewell  to  the  plantation 
of  his  father,  the  Brazilian  coffee  king,  where  as  a  boy  he  had 
speeded  locomotives,  real  compounds,  over  the  premises.  He 
abandoned  these  toys  and  took  up  with  what  the  French  love 
to  call  the  most  French  of  inventions,  flying  machines.  He 
allied  himself  with  those  rich  young  Parisians  who  seek  amuse- 
ments more  chic  than  gilded  dissipation;  that  is,  the  more  intel- 
lectual, though  scarcelv  more  rational,  pursuit  of  bizarre  meth- 
ods of  locomotion.  Though  able  to  have  stables,  and  yachts, 
and  palace  cars,  they  prefer  automobiles  and  balloons.     The 


76  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

youthful  Alberto  began  by  climbing  Mount  Blanc  to  see  what 
high  altitudes  were  like.  Then,  in  1898,  he  ordered  himself  a 
balloon  and  called  it  the  Bresil.  It  was  a  ludicrously  small 
affair,  of  not  more  than  145  cubic  yards.  He  would  return  from 
a  trip  with  the  balloon  in  his  grip.  But  he  was  not  content. 
The  Bresil  was  spherical,  unsteerable  - —  in  a  word,  old  fash- 
ioned. He  put  the  motor  of  his  automobile  into  the  basket,  and 
was  thus  the  first  to  apply  gasoline  to  aerial  navigation.  But 
as  yet  the  results  were  not  important.  That  same  fall  he 
launched  the  Santos-Dumont  I,  the  first  of  his  cigar-shaped 
experiments.  But  the  weight  of  the  basket  10  yards  beneath 
made  the  balloon  cave  downward,  and  the  air-ship  and  man 
tumbled  500  yards  to  earth  without  getting  hurt  —  a  mere  inci- 
dent. Next  year  appeared  the  second  Santos-Dumont^  of  the 
same  form,  but  a  little  longer.  He  went  up  Ascension  Day, 
became  dissatisfied,  and  began  work  on  his  ISTo.  3.  This  one 
was  22  yards  long,  with  a  capacity  of  650  cubic  yards.  The 
motor  worked  well,  and  he  made  several  encouraging  ascensions 
near  Eiffel  Tower. 

Last  year,  with  his  No.  4,  he  had  tried  for  the  Deutsch  prize, 
but  was  awarded  only  the  annual  interest  of  about  $760  on  the 
principal  amount  for  having  done  the  most  for  aerostation 
during  the  year.  He  promptly  returned  the  money  and  founded 
a  new  prize  with  it,  to  be  awarded  for  the  first  trip  around  Eiffel 
Tower,  no  time  limit.  He  had  the  foresight  to  bar  himself 
from  this  competition.  The  Santos-Dumont  IV  had  a  capacity 
of  546  cubic  yards,  with  a  9-horse-power,  2-cylinder  motor  giv- 
ing 100  revolutions  a  minute  to  the  screw.  The  engine  and  a 
bicycle  saddle  were  perched  on  a  bar  suspended  under  the  bal- 
loon. He  started  the  engine  by  working  the  pedals  under  the 
saddle,  and  by  cords  he  controlled  the  electric  lighting  of  the 
motor  and  the  management  of  the  rudder,  ballast,  and  equilib- 
rium. He  made  almost  daily  flights  with  this  balloon,  then 
later  on  put  in  a  16-horse-power  engine.  This,  of  course,  made 
a  larger  gas  bag  necessary,  but  he  simply  cut  in  half  the  one  he 
had  and  lengthened  it  to  36  yards,  as  you  would  a  dining-room 
table.  Soon  after  this  the  autumn  air  gave  him  pneumonia, 
and  he  had  to  go  to  the  Eiviera,  where  he  began  work  on  No. 
5,  his  latest  pet. 

Now  that  you  have  followed  the  inventor  through  the  whole 


CIRCLING  THE  EIFFEL  TOWER  77 

story,  you  are  beginning  to  demand  where,  after  all,  is  the  great 
monumental  and  mysterious  secret  of  aerial  navigation  that  has 
been  discovered.  You  have  not  stumbled  upon  the- trace  of  one. 
There  has  not  been  a  single  new  mechanical  principle  involved. 
The  fact  is,  there  has  beer  no  secret  to  discovpr  The  secret  of 
aerial  navigation  was  already  discovered  when  the  first  auto- 
mobile with  a  gasoline  motor  was  built.  When  Santos-Dumont 
robbed  his  automobile  of  its  motor  and  strapped  it  into  the  car 
of  his  balloon,  he  was  on  the  right  track.  But  he  certainly  had 
achieved  nothing  that  he  could  patent.  The  secret  may  also 
have  been  discovered  when  the  steam-engine  was  invented,  or 
again  when  electricity  was  chained  down  to  man's  service,  only 
up  to  the  present  there  is  this  fact,  namely,  no  one  so  far  has 
been  able  to  make  a  steam-engine  or  an  electric  battery  run  an 
air-ship.  That  may  happen  later,  but  meantime  the  gasoline 
motor  does  the  work  for  Santos-Dumont.  And  now  the  ques- 
tion is.  Why  does  it,  rather  than  either  steam  or  electricity? 
The  entire  answer  lies  in  this  one  word  —  "  weight." 

When  away  back  in  1783  the  crinoline  skirt  of  Madame  de 
Montgolfier,  drying  before  the  fireplace,  filled  with  hot  air  and 
puffed  up  to  the  ceiling,  this  same  word,  "  weight,"  became  the 
ke^^note  of  battle  and  the  problem  in  ballooning.  Joseph  Mont- 
golfier had  beheld  the  antics  of  his  wife's  skirt,  and  the  word 
that  involves  the  riddle  and  the  solution  spelled  itself  on  his 
brain.  That  is,  he  reflected  that  the  inflated  crinoline  had 
become  lighter  than  air.  So  he  set  to  work  and  astounded  the 
world  with  the  first  balloon,  an  humble  paper  globe  filled  with 
hot  air  that  soared  upward  but  a  few  3^ards.  Thus  having  once 
got  into  the  air,  man  has  ever  since  been  trying  and  trying  to 
steer  himself  while  there.  But  any  motor  that  would  be  power- 
ful enough  has  always  made  the  balloon  heavier  than  air.  For 
instance,  Henri  Giffard  in  1852  tried  steam  as  motive  power, 
and  he  was  the  first  to  adopt  the  cigar-shaped  bag,  but  his 
engine  would  not  propel  the  balloon,  simply  because  it  had  to 
be  too  light  for  the  power  exacted  of  it.  Twenty-five  years 
later  Dupuy  de  Lome  went  back  to  first  principles  and  tried 
manpower,  but  the  man  was  even  less  adequate  than  Giffard's 
feeble  engine.  In  1883  another  Frenchman,  Tissandier,  exper- 
imented with  electricity,  but  as  his  batteries  had  to  be  lio^ht 
enough  to  be  taken  up  in  the  balloon,  they  proved  effective 


78  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

only  in  helping  to  weigh  it  down  to  earth  again.  Krebs  and 
Eenard,  military  aeronauts,  succeeded  better  with  electricity,  for 
they  could  make  a  small  circuit  with  their  air-ship,  provided  only 
that  no  air  was  stirring.  Enthusiasts  cried  out  that  the  prob- 
lem was  solved,  but  the  two  aeronauts  themselves,  as  good  math- 
ematicians, figured  out  that  they  would  have  to  have  a  motor 
eight  times  more  powerful  than  their  own,  and  that  without  any 
increase  in  weight,  which  was  an  impossibility  at  that  time. 

Shortly  after  this,  though,  people  began  to  drive  round  in 
carriages  without  horses,  and  their  motive  power  was  the  gaso- 
line engine.  Tissandier^s  electro  motor  weighed  375  pounds  per. 
horse-power;  Santos-Dumonfs  petroleum  motor,  12  pounds  per 
horse-power.  In  both  cases  fuel  and  all  accessories  are  included. 
Now,  just  exactly  in  this  enormous  difference  of  weight  lies  the 
secret  of  aerial  navigation  as  solved  the  other  day  by  the  young 
Brazilian. 

The  explanation  why  the  petroleum  motor  is  such  a  tremen- 
dous giant  for  its  size  is  very  simple.  The  greater  part  of  its 
fuel  is  in  the  air  itself,  and  the  air  is  all  around  the  balloon,  all 
ready  for  use.  The  aeronaut  does  not  have  to  take  it  up  with 
him.  If  he  did,  he  would  be  crushed  to  earth  with  the  weight 
of  his  reservoir.  But  that  proportion  of  his  fuel  that  he  must 
carry,  the  coal-oil  can,  is  comparatively  insignificant.  The 
difference  between  carrying  this  fraction  and  carrying  all  the 
fuel,  as  for  steam  or  electricity,  makes  the  difference  between 
the  newer  kind  of  motor  and  the  two  old  kinds.  A  few  figures 
will  prove  startling.  Two  and  one-half  gallons  of  gasoline, 
weighing  15  pounds,  will  make  a  2 1/9 -horse-power  autocycle  cover 
94  miles  in  four  hours.  Santos-Dumont's  balloon  needs  less 
than  5 1/3  gallons  for  a  three  hours'  trip.  It  weighs  but  37 
pounds,  and  occupies  the  slender  cigar-shaped  brass  reservoir 
which  you  will  notice  near  the  motor.  ISTow,  then,  an  electric 
battery  of  the  same  power  would  weigh  2,695  pounds,  and  yet 
would  last  only  twenty-five  minutes.  If  we  consider  the  weight 
and  volume  of  fuel  in  the  air  which  the  gasoline  motor  does 
not  have  to  carry  up,  we  will  see,  on  accepting  chemistry's  word, 
that  a  liter  of  gasoline  (3i/2  pints)  consumes  during  combustion 
5.45  pounds  of  oxygen  in  the  air,  which  means  27%  pounds  of 
air.  Imagine,  therefore,  a  balloon  earrving  a  reservoir  of  air 
for  its  motor.     One  liter  of  gasoline  would  require  an  air  maga- 


CIRCLING  THE  EIFFEL  TOWER  T9 

zine  a  yard  square  and  as  high  as  a  four-story  house.  For  San- 
tos-Dumont's  oil  can  this  magazine  would  have  to  be  1,000  feet 
high,  or  about  big  enough  to  hold  the  Statue  of  Liberty. 

As  to  what  this  last  air-ship  really  means  for  aerostation, 
French  opinion  differs  to  the  overheating  point.  Again 
"  weight  ^^  is  the  battle  cry  raised  in  the  two  opposing  camps 
of  balloonry.  One  camp  maintains  that  the  balloon  lighter 
than  air  is  the  beginning  and  end  of  the  question,  and  conse- 
quently they  hold  that  Santos-Dumont  has  found  the  ultimate 
solution,  because  he  can  steer  his  inflated  chariot.  Their  oppo- 
nents give  the  Brazilan  big  credit  for  making  a  dirigible  flying 
machine  of  any  kind,  but  they  contend  that  the  problem  rests 
unsolved  so  long  as  the  air-ship  is  not  heavier  than  air.  The 
discussion  has  grown  quite  ardent.  There  are  liable  to  be 
some  duels  most  any  time  if  cold  weather  does  not  set  in. 

The  lighter-than-air  people  argue  that  on  an  aeronef  or  aero- 
plane (heavier-than-air  machine)  the  operator  would  be  at  the 
mercy  of  his  motor.  If  the  motor  stopped,  the  air-ship  would 
come  down  like  a  clod,  having,  of  course,  no  gas  bag  to  hold  it 
up.  The  heavier-than-air  contingent  admit  that  this  is  a  point 
to  be  considered,  and  that,  therefore,  the  motor  will  have  to 
be  a  very  reliable  motor  indeed.  And  then  they  proceed  to 
point  out  that  the  aerostat  (lighter-than-air  machine)  can  never 
be  of  any  practical  use  anyhow,  even  if  you  can  steer  it.  For 
war  purposes  it  offers  too  large  a  target  for  the  enemy.  The 
risk  of  a  motor  stopping  on  a  small  aeroplane  would  be  much 
healthier.  For  private  promenading  it  would  be  too  costly. 
And  as  for  general  transportation  —  not  to  be  considered  at 
all.  The  Santos-Dumont  V  requires  550  cubic  meters  of  gas  for 
one  little  man  of  120  pounds,  and  even  then. the  little  man  can 
not  take  on  more  luggage  than  his  life  and  his  nerve,  with  a 
fair  chance  of  losing  both  before  he  gets  back.  Therefore,  a  bal- 
loon with  the  passenger  list  of  a  small  transatlantic  steamer 
would  have  to  be  some  twenty  times  larger  than  Barnum's  big- 
gest tent,  and  the  balloon  house  would  cover  a  fair-sized  city. 
Only  the  traveler  with  a  million  to  spare  could  book  a  passage 
thereon,  and  all  the  other  millionaires  would  go  bankrupt 
financing  such  an  enterprise.  The  gentlest  breeze  would  prove 
a  tempest  for  the  fabulously  stupendous  gas  bag,  and  the  pres- 
sure under  ordinary  conditions  would  make  a  metal  covering 


80  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

absolutely  necessary.  On  the  other  hand,  the  aeroplane  —  when 
found  —  may  be  of  a  size  more  in  proportion  to  the  carriers  on 
sea  and  land,  and  by  inclinations  of  its  surface  it  need  not 
fear  a  gale  much  more  than  does  a  ship. 

In  conclusion  it  seems  that  the  Santos-Bumont  V  may  be 
correctly  rated  as  the  last  evolution  from  Madame  de  Mont- 
golfier^s  crinoline  skirt.  It  is  the  culmination  of  balloons 
lighter  than  air.  It  is  the  first  to  make  a  trip  in  a  breeze  and 
come  back  to  a  point  indicated  beforehand.  In  a  word,  it  is 
steerable.  Of  course  there  remains  room  for  improvement,  but 
hardly  for  further  evolution.  In  aeronautics  all  evolution  from 
now  on  must  begin  from  the  bird  and  end  in  the  aeroplane. 
And  perhaps  that  will  involve  a  new  principle  of  mechanics. 
The  genius  who  discovers -it  will  be  a  colossus,  beside  whom  the 
clever  and  daring  craftsman  who  applied  an  automobile  motor 
to  an  inflated  spindle  will  be  but  the  merest  pigmy.  The  aero- 
plane, though,  has  not  left  the  ground  yet.  But  the  Santos- 
Dumont  V  has.  The  neighbors  have  already  made  complaint. 
They  protest  against  the  early  morning  flights,  when  the  pop- 
ping of  the  motor  a  few  yards  over  their  roofs  breaks  in  on 
their  slumber.    There  you  have  a  foretaste  of  the  future. 


NOTE  BY  THE  EDITOR. 

It  has  been  both  a  surprise  and  a  disappointment  to  Santos-Dumont 
that  time  has  not  brought  him  a  rival.  This  he  tells  us  himself  in  the 
lively  book  devoted  to  his  achievements  in  the  air.  So,  while  waiting 
for  someone  to  run  races  with  him  in  the  clouds,  he  resolved  to  build  an 
aerostatic  masterpiece  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  an  occasional  outing 
above  the  roofs  and  parks  of  Paris.     This  was  his  great  "  No.  9." 

Upon  the  dirigibility  of  this  creation,  which  was  the  sensation  of  the 
French  capital  throughout  the  years  1903  and  1904,  Santos-Dumont  be- 
stowed special  pains.  Experience  had  taught  nim  much,  and  he  himself 
assures  us  that  successful  navigation  of  the  air  is  as  much  a  matter  of 
experience  as  is  successful  navigation  of  the  sea.  There  is  no  secret  of 
dirigibility  as  there  was  once  a  secret  of  Bessemer  steel.  The  steering 
of  Santos-Dumont's  No.  9  depends,  as  the  steering  of  its  predecessors  de- 
pended, upon  the  twin  essentials  of  propeller  and  rudder.  Both  remain, 
as  before,  at  the  stern.  Two  huge  fans  again  form  the  screw  of  the 
vessel,  while  No.  9's  rudder  is  operated  by  means  of  a  wheel  in  the  small 
basket  in  which  Santos-Dumont  sits.  A  turn  of  the  wheel  shifts  the 
rudder  and  No.  9  turns.  All  this  means,  of  course,  that  the  shape  of 
the  cigar,  while  far  le=:s  pronounced  and  even  gravitating  toward  the 
shape  of  the  ess,  had  still  to  be  kept  in  mind  as  an  essential  of  dirigi- 


CIRCLING  THE  EIFFEL  TOWER  81 

bility.  Santos-Dumont  himself  can  not  to-day  steer  a  round  balloon. 
The  propeller,  as  before,  is  controlled  by  means  of  the  shaft.  In  a  word, 
dirigibility  is  attained  by  modifying,  to  suit  atmospherical  conditions,  the 
available  factors  in  navigation. 

The  old  difficulties  and  the  old  limitations  are  there,  too.  Should  the 
gear  cords  break,  there  is  an  end  to  dirigibility.  Nor  is  the  dirigibility 
of  a  kind  to  bid  defiance  to  tempestuous  air  currents.  But  the  young 
inventor  overcomes  this  last  obstacle  by  not  ascending  too  high.  Santos- 
Dumont  seeks  no  glory  by  fighting  strong  winds.  It  suffices  for  him  that 
No.  9  obediently  turns  in  reasonable  weather  when  he  makes  his  rudder 
ropes  taut. 

His  dexterity  with  the  guide  rope,  Santos-Dumont  thinks,  accounts  for 
the  brilliance  of  No.  9's  career.  The  guide  rope  has  been  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  the  dirigibility  of  every  Santos-Dumont  airship.  We  have 
already  seen  that  by  pulling  the  guide  rope  towards  the  centre  of  equi- 
librium, and,  when  necessary,  by  letting  it  out  again,  the  axis  of  the 
cigar-shaped  or  oval  balloon  is  inclined  now  skyward  and  now  earthward. 
The  impetus  supplied  by  the  fans  at  the  stern  sends  the  airship  up  or 
down.  But  the  guide  rope  is  the  source  of  stability,  the  means  of  ob- 
viating those  lurches  and  pitches  which  are  to  aerial  navigation  what 
seasickness  is  to  ocean  voyages.  In  a  mere  pleasure  craft  like  No.  9, 
the  guide  rope  ought  to  trail  on  the  ground  as  much  as  possible  —  or  in 
the  water  at  sea.  But  any  lack  of  skill  on  the  part  of  the  aeronaut,  the 
least  failure  to  steer  properly  at  a  critical  moment,  must  inevitably  moor 
his  airship  to  a  tree,  a  church  spire  or,  it  might  be,  a  lamp  post.  Yet  so 
sure  of  himself  was  Santos-Dumont,  so  steady  had  his  nerve  become,  that 
with  a  guide  rope  some  hundred  and  fifty  feet  or  less  in  length  he  toured 
the  boulevards  and  avenues  of  Paris  with  the  ease  of  an  expert  automo- 
bilist.     This  was  in  1903. 

The  sensation  of  it  all  was  prodigious.  He  took  regular  airings  —  in 
the  most  literal  sense  possible  —  from  his  own  front  door  to  the  great 
triumphal  arch  and  thence  to  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  the  famous  pleasure 
ground  of  the  French  metropolis.  Making  it  a  rule  not  to  ascend  much 
above  the  level  of  the  higher  roofs  and  trees,  he  remained  perfectly  vis- 
ible to  the  crowds  who  noted  his  easy  and  measured  progress  from  their 
windows  or  in  the  streets  below.  "  Thus  I  guide-roped  through  the  Ave- 
nue du  Bois,"  remarks  Santos-Dumont  in  his  book.  "  Thus,  some  day, 
explorers  will  guide-rope  to  the  North  Pole." 

Pretty  little  incidents  marked  this  progress  about  the  city.  One  day, 
the  aerial  explorer  took  it  into  his  head  to  come  down  among  a  group  of 
children  at  play. 

"  Is  there  anyone  here  would  like  to  ascend  with  me?  "  he  inquired. 

A  bright  maid  of  seven  was  quick  to  respond.  She  was  a  little  Amer- 
ican girl.  Away  she  went  into  the  air.  Under  the  supervision  of  San- 
tos-Dumont, who  made  this  promenade  a  brief  one,  she  steered  with  ease. 
That  miss  will  make  a  perfect  aeronaut  one  of  these  days,  thinks  her 
BraziliRn  tutor,  should  her  talents  be  directed  in  maturer  years,  to  such 
a  field  of  endeavor.  And  on  one  memorable  dav  a  young  lady  full  grown, 
described  by  Santos-Dumont  as  a  most  beautiful  and  bewitching  Cuban,, 
6, 


82  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

pleaded  for  leave  to  ascend  all  by  herself.  The  fact  that  he  granted  the 
request  indicates,  thinks  Santos-Dumont,  the  extent  of  his  confidence  in 
No.  9.  He  gave  three  lessons  in  aerial  navigation  to  this  daring  belle, 
who  "  guide-roped  "  alone  for  some  miles,  the  poineer  of  her  sex  in  the 
art  of  dirigible  ballooning.  "  I  will  not  pretend,"  says  Santos-Dumont, 
*'  that  no  one  followed  the  course  of  the  trailing  guide  rope.  But  it  is 
certain  that  no  one  touched  it  until  the  moment  when,  the  promenade 
being  ended  at  Bagatelle,  the  intrepid  young  '  navigatress  '  set  foot  on 
earth  again." 

The  lightness,  the  compactness  of  this  pleasure  craft  made  such  things 
possible.  The  balloon  proper  has  a  capacity  of  1,100  cubic  feet.  The 
ballast  carried  does  not  at  times  exceed  65  pounds,  but  it  can  be  in- 
creased, upon  occasion,  to  some  140  pounds.  The  little  three-horse-power 
motor  weighs  a  trifle  over  26  pounds.  No.  9  was  not  built  for  speed, 
although  it  has  carried  its  owner  at  the  rate  of  fifteen  to  twenty  miles 
an  hour  and  more,  notwithstanding  the  oval  form  towards  which  the 
cigar  shape  has  evolved.  The  trailing  of  the  guide  rope  on  the  ground 
has  never  led  to  misfortune.  And,  as  has  already  been  hinted.  No.  9 
never  indulges  in  eagle  flights.  In  fact,  it  seldom,  when  in  town,  goes 
far  above  a  high  roof.  This,  Santos-Dumont  assures  us,  is' sensible  aerial 
navigation.  It  does  away  with  the  lurching  and  pitching  which  disturbed 
the  course  of  his  maiden  flights  before  he  had  won  any  prizes.  It  avoids 
risk  of  falling.  When  the  wind  is  unfavorable,  its  influence  can  be  more 
readily  overcome  at  a  low  altitude. 

But  there  is  one  dire  peril  —  that  of  "cold  explosion" — which,  with 
all  his  ingenuity,  the  young  genius  has  not  eliminated.  There  is  still  a 
possibility  of  conflagration.  The  petroleum  reservoir  (the  gasoline  tank) 
may  in  some  unhappy  moment  of  negligence  catch  fire  from  the  motor 
by  a  "  return  "  or  sucking  back  of  the  flame.  So  careful  has  Santos- 
Dumont  been  in  all  his  years  of  experiment  that  he  has  remained  prac- 
tically immune  to  this  risk.  Yet  it  did  happen  on  one  July  day  in  1903 
that  the  very  accident  which  he  tries  so  hard  to  avoid  nearly  made  an 
end  of  him  and  of  No.  9  together.  He  was  steering  the  aerial  runabout 
across  the  Seine  when  the  flame  from  the  motor  was  drawn  straight 
towards  the  gasoline  tank.  Seizing  his  Panama  hat,  the  navigator  of 
No.  9  fanned  the  flame  out.  The  incident  afforded  him  a  text  for  some 
observations  in  his  book.  The  insuflScient  working  of  the  escape  valves 
from  the  balloon,  he  tells  us,  might  produce  explosive  complications. 
Then,  should  there  be  a  cold  explosion,  the  darting  flame  from  the  motor 
would  be  very  apt  to  ignite  the  volume  of  mixed  hydrogen  and  air  all 
about.  "  But  it  would  have  no  decisive  influence  on  the  result,"  notes 
the  aeronaut  reflectively.  "  The  cold  explosion  itself  would  unquestion- 
ably be  enough." 

Another  narrow  escape  from  death  came  in  the  INIediterranean,  on  the 
occasion  of  a  voyage  from  Monaco  to  Cape  Martin  and  back.  Santos- 
Dumont  passed  directly  over  the  yacht  of  the  Prince  of  Monaco,  who 
attempted  to  seize  the  guide  rope.  The  airship  had  descended  quite  near 
the  surface  of  the  sea,  when  the  smokestack  of  the  yacht  began  to  emit 
red-hot  sparks.     As  a  single  spark  might  have  burned  a  hole  in  the  bal- 


CIRCLING  THE  EIFFEL  TOWER  83 

loon,  thus  setting  fire  to  the  hydrogen,  it  seems  a  marvel  that  airship 
and  owner  were  not  then  and  there  blown  to  atoms. 

One  peril,  that  of  ascending  too  high,  Santos-Dumont  is  determined 
to  avoid.  With  the  aid  of  shifting  w^eights  and  propellers,  his  delicate 
craft  could  attam  a  great  altitude  easily.  But  her  owner  constantly 
declares  that  the  proper  place  for  an  airship  is  at  a  low  altitude.  There 
is  only  useless  risk,  with  no  compensating  advantage  ordinarily,  in  swift 
vertical  mounting  to  giddy  heights. 

The  original  purpose  in  the  construction  of  No.  9,  pleasure  and  amuse- 
ment, was  attained  in  ample  measure,  as  appears  from  Santos-Dumont's 
account  of  his  sensations  as  a  passenger  in  his  masterpiece.  He  was 
never  seasick.  In  the  airship  there  is  no  smell,  none  of  that  odor  of 
paint,  varnish  and  pitch,  blended  with  the  cooking,  the  vapors  from  the 
boilers  and  the  stench  of  the  smoke  and  hold  which  combine  to  afford  a 
vivid  impression  of  the  atmosphere  aboard  an  ocean  liner.  The  very 
pitching  is  free  from  the  shocks  and  the  tumblings  of  a  vessel  at  sea. 
Aboard  the  airship  the  motion  is  gentle  and  flowing,  attributable,  sus- 
pects Santos-Dumont,  to  the  weaker  resistance  offered  by  atmospherical 
currents.  The  heaving  is  not  so  violent  as  that  on  the  surface  of  the 
water.  The  succession  of  plunges  and  halts  aboard  a  liner,  occasioned 
by  the  unceasing  rise  and  fall  on  the  crest  of  waves,  is  absent.  "  The 
airship  never  leaves  its  element  —  the  air  —  in  which  it  only  swings." 

While  on  his  aerial  cruise  above  the  Mediterranean,  Santos-Dumont 
was  struck  by  the  ease  with  which  he  could  discern  objects  moving  be- 
neath the  surface  of  the  water.  It  at  once  suggested  itself  that  a  sub- 
marine, lurking  for  prey,  would  be  transparently  visible  to  himself, 
although  from  the  conning  tower  or  bridge  of  a  battleship  no  human  eye 
could  detect  such  an  enemy's  presence.  "  Thus,  very  oddly,"  writes  our 
aerost  in  his  book,  "  the  airship  of  the  twentieth  century  must  be  from 
the  start  the  great  foe  of  that  other  twentieth  century  marvel,  the  sub- 
marine." He  has  no  doubt  that  victory  must  rest  with  the  airship.  The 
submarine  can  do  it  no  damage.  But  the  airship,  twice  as  fast,  can  sail 
the  atmosphere  in  obedience  to  the  guide  rope  and  signal  the  finding  of 
the  enemy  under  water  to  a  neighboring  squadron.  Santos-Dumont  would 
even  undertake  to  destroy  the  submarine  with  arrows  of  dynamite. 

This  hint  was  too  good  to  be  lost  upon  the  ministries  of  war  and 
marine.  For  months  past  experiments  have  been  conducted  in  profound 
secrecy  under  the  supervision  of  Santos-Dumont.  The  great  nation 
which  is  strongest  in  submarines  promises  to  be  the  pioneer,  too,  in  war- 
fare directed  from  the  clouds.  The  problem  of  keeping  out  of  the  range 
of  guns  is  already  solved.  What  other  problems  have  been  solved  San- 
tos-Dumont and  the  government  of  the  third  republic  will  not  reveal. 
But  in  the  next  war  between  France  and  a  European  power  —  Santos- 
Dumont  has  excluded  the  American  hemisphere  by  agreement  —  the 
world  may  witness  a  fulfillment  of  Tolstoi's  dire  prophecy  that  "  can- 
non's flesh,  as  after  cold  weapons  it  submitted  to  bullets  and  meekly  ex- 
posed itself  to  shells,  bombs,  far-reachmg  guns,  mitrailleuse,  mines,  so  it 
will  also  submit  to  bombs  charged  with  suffocating  gases  scattered  down 
upon  it  from  balloons." 


84  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


THE  STORY  OF  RADIUM. 

By  CLEVELAND  MOFFETT. 

VEEY  well  do  I  remember  my  first  impression  of  M.  Curie. 
It  was  in  the  rue  Cnvier  at  the  Sorbonne  laboratories  in 
Paris,  where  he  was  lecturing  that  day  in  the  big  amphi- 
theatre, while  I  waited  in  an  adjoining  room  among  the  air- 
pumps  and  electrical  apparatus.  Suddenly  a  door  opened  and 
there  came  a  burst  of  applause,  a  long  clapping  of  hands,  and  at 
the  same  moment  a  tall,  pale  man,  slightly  bent,  walked  slowly 
across  the  room. 

On  this  occasion  I  simply  made  an  appointment  to  see  M. 
Curie  the  next  morning  at  the  Ecole  de  Physique,  but  I  profited 
by  the  opportunity  to  ask  his  assistant,  M.  Danne,  some  pre- 
liminary questions  about  radium.  Was  it  true,  could  it  be  true, 
that  this  strange  substance  gives  forth  heat  and  light  ceaselessly 
and  is  really  an  inexhaustible  source  of  energy?  Of  course,  I 
had  read  all  this,  but  I  wanted  to  hear  it  from  the  mouth  of 
one  who  knew. 

"It  is  quite  true,^^  said  M.  Danne,  "that  pure  radium  gives 
out  light  and  heat  without  any  waste  or  diminution  that  can  be 
detected  by  our  most  delicate  instruments.  That  is  all  we  can 
say.- 

"  Is  the  light  that  it  gives  a  bright  light  ?  '^ 
•   "  Eeasonably  bright.    M.  Curie  will  show  you.^^ 

"  Can  he  explain  it  ?     Can  any  one  explain  it  ?  '^ 

"There  are  various  theories,  but  they  really  explain  very 
little.- 

M.  Danne  went  on  to  indicate  other  properties  of  radium 

*  Radium,  rpcently  discovered  by  M.  and  Mme.  Curie,  of  Paris,  is  one 
of  the  rarest  of  the  seventy  odd  known  elementary  substances  that  com- 
pose our  earth.  It  is  worth  about  three  thousand  times  its  weight  in 
pure  gold.  It  looks  like  ordinary  table  salt.  Thus  far  only  a  few  ounces 
of  radium  have  been  taken  from  the  earth  and  purified.  The  material 
for  this  article  was  furnished  by  M,  Curie  himself  and  his  laboratory 
assistant,  M.  Danne. —  The  Editor. 


^^^^^H^'# 

fl 

IB.             ^ 

^^^H    I^HIi^'''"  .^^H 

■ 

^^^^^^^^^j|^^^^^^^^^HH^H^^^^^^^^^| 

1 

M.  PIERRE   CURIE. 

77ie  Discoverer  of  Radium. 


THE  STORY  OF  RADIUM  85 

that  are  scarcely  less  startling  than  these.  Besides  heat  and 
light  this  strange  metal  gives  out  constantly  three  kinds  of 
invisible  rays  that  move  with  the  velocity  of  light  or  thereabouts 
and  that  have  separate  and  well-marked  attributes.  These  rays 
may  be  helpful  or  harmful;  they  may  destroy  life  or  stimulate 
it.  They  are  capable  not  only  of  shortening  life  or  prolonging 
it,  but  of  modifying  existing  forms  of  life;  that  is,  of  actually 
creating  new  species.  Finally,  by  destroying  bacteria,  they 
may  be  used  to  cure  disease,  notably  the  dread  lupus  recently 
conquered  by  Finsen's  lamps  and  now  apparently  conquered 
again  by  simpler  means. 

I  listened  in  amazement;  it  was  not  one  discovery  but  a 
dozen  that  we  were  contemplating. 

"  And  —  all  this  is  M.  Curie's  discovery  ?  " 

'^Eadium  is  his  discovery;  that  is,  his  and  Madame  Curie^s. 
You  cannot  give  one  more  credit  than  the  other.  They  did  it 
together.'^ 

He  told  me  a  little  about  Madame  Curie,  who,  it  appears,  was 
a  Polish  student  in  the  Latin  Quarter,  very  poor,  but  possessed 
of  rare  talents.  They  say  that  her  marriage  with  M.  Curie  was 
just  such  a  union  as  must  have  produced  some  fine  results 
Without  his  scientific  learning  and  vivid  imagination  it 
is  doubtful  if  radium  would  ever  have  been  dreamed  of,  and 
without  her  determination  and  patience  against  detail  it  is  likely 
the  dream  would  never  have  been  realized. 

The  next  day  I  found  M.  Curie  in  one  of  the  rambling  sheds 
of  the  ficole  de  Physique  bending  over  a  small  porcelain  dish, 
where  a  colorless  liquid  was  simmering,  perhaps  half  a  teacup- 
ful,  seven  thousand  francs'  worth  of  radium  in.  a  fairly  weak 
solution,  and  he  watching  it  with  concern,  always  fearful  of 
some  accident.  He  had  lost  nearly  a  decigramme  (1.5  grains 
troy)  of  radium,  he  said,  only  a  few  weeks  before  in  a  curious 
way.  He  had  placed  some  radium  salts  in  a  small  tube,  and  this 
inside  another  tube,  in  which  he  created  a  vacuum.  Then  he 
began  to  heat  both  tubes  over  an  electric  furnace,  when,  sud- 
denly, at  about  2,000  degrees  Fahrenheit,  there  came  an  explo- 
sion which  shattered  the  tubes  and  scattered  their  precious  con- 
tents. There  was  absolutely  no  explanation  of  this  explosion ;  it 
was  one  of  the  tricks  that  radium  is  apt  to  play  on  you.  Here 
his  face  lightened  with  quite  a  boyish  smile. 


86  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

M.  Curie  proceeded  to  explain  what  he  was  doing  with  the 
little  dish;  he  was  refining  some  radium  dissolved  in  it;  that 
is,  freeing  it  from  contaminating  barium  by  repeated  crystalliza- 
tion, this  being  the  last  and  most  delicate  part  of  the  process 
of  obtaining  the  pure  metal. 

"  We  have  our  radium  works  outside  of  Paris,"  he  said, 
*^  where  the  crude  ore  goes  through  its  early  stages  of  separation 
and  where  the  radium  is  brought  to  an  intensity  of  2,000,  as  we 
express  it.  After  that  the  process  requires  such  care  and 
involves  so  much  risk  of  waste  that  we  keep  the  precious  stuff  in 
our  own  hands  and  treat  it  ourselves,  my  wife  and  I,  as  I  am 
doing  now,  to  bring  it  to  the  higher  intensities,  50,000,  200,000, 
500,000,  and  finally,  1,500,000.  What  you  see  here  is  about 
100,000.  It  will  take  many  more  crystallizations  to  bring  it  to 
the  maximum." 

"  That  is  to  the  state  of  pure  radium  ?  " 

'^  To  the  state  of  pure  chloride  of  radium.  You  know  the 
metal  exists  only  as  a  chloride  or  bromide.  It  has  never  yet 
been  isolated,  although  it  easily  might  be." 

"  Why  has  it  never  been  isolated  ?  " 

^^ Because  it  would  not  be  stable;  it  would  immediately  be 
oxidized  by  the  air  and  destroyed,  as  happens  with  sodium, 
whereas  it  remains  permanent  as  a  bromide  or  chloride  and 
suffers  no  change." 

M.  Curie  then  explained  that,  among  its  many  strange  prop- 
erties, radium  has  this  one  of  rendering  the  air  about  it  a 
better  conductor  of  electricity,  and  the  more  it  increases  this 
conductivity  of  the  air  the  more  intense  it  is  said  to  be.  Now 
it  has  been  known  for  several  years  that  the  metal  uranium 
possesses  properties  similar  to  those  of  radium,  only  much  less 
marked,  consequently  the  unit  of  intensity  chosen  for  a  measur- 
ing instrument  was  the  radio-activity  of  uranium,  and  when  a 
given  lot  of  radium  is  said  to  have  a  certain  intensity,  say,  2,000 
or  500,000,  it  is  understood  that  this  radium  renders  the  air 
2,000  times  or  500,000  times  more  conductive  than  an  equal 
quantity  of  uranium  would  render  it. 

"  Does  radium  change  in  appearance  as  it  increases  in  inten- 
sity?" I  asked. 

'^No,  it  keeps  the  form  of  small,  white  crystals,  which  may 


THE  STORY  OF  RADIUM  ^87 

be  crushed  into  a  white  powder  and  which  look  like  ordinary 
salt.    See,  here  are  some/^ 

He  took  from  the  table  drawer  a  small  glass  tube  not  much 
larger  than  a  thick  match.  It  was  sealed  at  both  ends  and 
partly  covered  with  a  fold  of  lead.  Inside  the  tube  I  could 
see  a  white  powder. 

"Why  is  the  tube  wrapped  with  lead?^^  I  inquired. 

"  For  the  protection  of  those  who  handle  it.  Lead  stops  the 
harmful  rays  that  would  otherwise  make  trouble." 

"Trouble?'^ 

"  Yes ;  you  see  the  radium  in  this  tube  is  very  active ;  it  has 
an  intensity  of  1,500,000,  and  if  I  were  to  lay  it  against  your 
hand  or  any  part  of  your  body  so,"  —  he  touched  the  bare  tube 
to  my  hand  —  "  and  if  I  were  to  leave  it  there  for  a  few  min- 
utes, you  would  certainly  hear  from  it  later." 

"  But  I  feel  nothing." 

"  Of  course  not ;  neither  did  I  feel  anything  when  I  touched 
some  radium  here,"  and  pulling  up  his  sleeve  he  showed  me  a 
forearm  scarred  and  reddened  from  fresh-healed  sores.  "  But 
you  see  what  it  did,  and  it  was  much  less  intense  than  •  this 
specimen." 

He  then  mentioned  an  experience  of  his  friend,  Professor 
Becquerel,  discoverer  of  the  "  Becquerel  rays  "  of  uranium,  and 
in  a  way  the  parent-discovery  of  radium,  since  the  latter  discov- 
ery grew  out  of  the  former.  It  seems  that  Professor  Becquerel, 
in  journeying  to  London,  carried  in  his  waistcoat  pocket  a  small 
tube  of  radium  to  be  used  in  a  lecture  there.  N'othing  happened 
at  the  time,  but  about  a  fortnight  later  the  professor  observed 
that  the  skin  under  his  pocket  was  beginning  to  redden  and  fall 
away,  and  finally  a  deep  and  painful  sore  formed  there  and 
remained  for  weeks  before  healing.  A  peculiar  feature  of  these 
radium  sores  is  that  they  do  not  appear  for  quite  a  time  after 
exposure  to  the  rays. 

"  Then  radium  is  an  element  of  destruction  ?  "  T  remarked. 

'^Undoubtedly  it  has  a  power  of  destruction,  but  that  power 
may  be  tempered  or  controlled,  for  instance,  by  this  covering-  of 
lead.  M.  Danysz,  at  the  Pasteur  Institute,  will  give  you  the 
pathological  facts  better  than  I  can." 

This  brought  us  back  to  physical  facts,  and  I  asked  M.  Curie 


88  MODERN  IKVEXTIONS 

if  the  radium  before  us  was  at  that  moment  giving  out  heat 
and  light,  for  I  could  perceive  neither. 

"  Of  course  it  is/'  he  replied.  "  I  will  take  you  into  a  dark 
room  presently  and  let  you  see  the  light  for  yourself.  As  for 
the  heat,  a  thermometer  would  show  that  this  tube  of  radium 
is  one  and  a  half  degrees  Centigrade  (2.7  degrees  Fahrenheit) 
warmer  than  the  surrounding  air.-' 

"  Is  it  always  that  much  warmer  ?  " 

*^  Always  —  as  far  as  we  know.  I  may  put  it  more  simply  by 
saying  that  a  given  quantity  of  radium  will  melt  its  own  weight 
of  ice  every  hour/' 

"  Forever  ? '' 

He  smiled.  "  As  far  as  we  know  —  forever.  Or  again,  that 
a  given  quantity  of  radium  throws  out  as  much  heat  in  eighty 
hours  as  an  equal  weight  of  coal  would  throw  out  if  burned  to 
complete  combustion  in  one  hour." 

"  Suppose  you  had  a  considerable  quantity  of  radium,"  I 
suggested,  "  say,  twenty  pounds,  or  a  hundred  pounds  ?  " 

"  The  law  would  be  the  same,  whatever  the  quantity.  If  we 
had  fifty  kilos  (110  pounds)  of  radium,"  he  gave  a  little  won- 
dering cluck  at  the  thought ;  "  I  say  if  we  had  fifty  kilos  of  ra- 
dium it  would  give  out  as  much  heat  continuously  as  a  stove 
would  give  out  that  burned  ten  kilos  (twenty-two  pounds)  of 
coal  every  tv/enty-four  hours,  and  was  filled  up  fresh  every 
day." 

"  And  the  radium  would  never  cease  to  give  out  this  heat  and 
would  never  be  consumed  ?  " 

"  Never  is  a  hard  word,  but  one  of  our  professors  has  calcu- 
lated that  a  given  quantity  of  radium,  after  throwing  out  heat 
as  I  have  stated  for  a  thousand  million  years,  would  have  lost 
only  one-millionth  part  of  its  bulk.  Others  think  the  loss  might 
be  greater,  saj^,  an  ounce  to  a  ton  in  ten  thousand  years;  but 
in  any  case  it  is  so  infinitesimally  small  that  we  have  no  means 
of  measuring  it,  and  for  practical  purposes  it  does  not  exist." 

After  this  M.  Curie  took  me  into  a  darkened  room,  where  I 
saw  quite  plainly  the  light  from  the  radium  tube,  a  clear  glow 
sufficient  to  read  by  if  the  tube  were  held  near  a  printed  page. 
And,  of  course,  this  was  a  very  small  quantity  of  radium,  about 
six  centigrammes    (nine-tenths  of  a  grain  troy). 

^^  We  estimate,"  said  he,  "  that  a  decigramme  of  radium  will 


THE  STORY  OF  RADIUM  S9 

illuminate  a  square  decimeter  (fifteen  square  inches)  of  surface 
sufficient  for  reading." 

"And  a  kilogram  (2.2  pounds)  of  radium?'^ 

"  A  kilogram  of  radium  would  illuminate  a  room  thirty  feet 
square  with  a  mild  radiance.  And  the  light  would  be  much 
brighter  if  screens  of  sulphide  of  zinc  were  placed  near  the 
radium,  for  these  are  thrown  by  the  metal  into  a  brilliant 
phosphorescence."' 

"  Then  radium  may  be  the  light  of  the  future  ?  " 

M.  Curie  shook  his  head.  "  I  am  afraid  that  we  should  pay 
rather  dearly  for  such  a  light.  There  is  first  the  money  cost  to 
be  considered  and  then  the  likelihood  that  the  people  illu- 
minated by  radium  would  be  also  stricken  with  paralysis,  blind- 
ness, and  various  nervous  disorders.  Possibly  protective  screens 
might  be  devised  against  these  dangers,  but  it  is  too  soon  to 
think  of  that.  For  a  long  time  to  come  the  radium  light  will 
be  only  a  laboratory  wonder.^' 

After  we  had  been  in  the  darkness  for  some  time  M.  Curie 
wrapped  the  radium  tube  in  thick  paper  and  put  it  in  my  hand. 

^'  Now,''  said  he,  "  shut  your  eyes  and  press  this  against  your 
right  eyelid.'' 

I  did  as  he  bade  me  and  straightway  had  the  sensation  of  a 
strange  diffused  light  outside  my  eye.  M.  Curie  assured  me, 
however,  that  the  light  was  not  outside  but  inside  the  eye,  the 
radium  rays  having  the  property  of  making  the  liquids  of  the 
eyeball  self-luminous,  a  sort  of  internal  phosphorescence  being 
produced.  He  warned  me  that  it  would  be  dangerous  to  leave 
the  radium  against  the  eyelid  very  long,  as  a  serious  disturbance 
to  the  eyesight,  or  even  blindness,  might  result. 

Another  experiment  consisted  in  placing  the  radium  against 
the  bone  at  the  side  of  the  forehead,  and  even  in  this  position, 
with  the  eyes  closed,  a  light  was  perceptible,  although  fainter. 
Here  the  radium  rays  had  acted  upon  the  eyeball  through  the 
bones  of  the  head. 

"  It  is  possible,"  said  M.  Curie,  "  that  this  property  of  radium 
may  be  utilized  in  certain  diseases  of  the  eye.  Dr.  Emile  Javal, 
one  of  our  distinguished  physicians,  who  is  blind  himself,  has 
given  this  matter  particular  attention,  and  he  thinks  that  radium 
may  offer  a  precious  means  of  diagnosis  in  cases  of  cataract,  by 
showing  whether  the  retina  is  or  is  not  intact,  and  whether  an 


90  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

operation  will  succeed.  If  a  person  blind  from  cataract  can  see 
the  radium  light  as  you  have  just  seen  it,  then  the  eyesight 
of  that  person  may  be  restored  by  removing  the  cataract.  Other- 
wise it  cannot  be  restored.^' 

As  we  returned  to  the  laboratory  I  remarked  that  the  quan- 
tity of  radium  in  the  various  tubes  I  had  seen  was  very  small. 

"  Of  course  it  is  small/'  he  sighed ;  "  there  is  very  little  ra- 
dium in  the  world.  I  mean,  very  little  that  has  been  taken  from 
the  earth  and  purified.^^ 

"  How  much  is  there  V 

He  thought  a  moment.  "We  have  about  one  gramme  (one- 
third  of  an  ounce)  in  France,  Germany  may  have  one  gramme, 
America  has  less  than  one  gramme,  and  the  rest  of  the  world 
may  perhaps  have  half  a  gramme.  Four  grammes  in  all  would 
be  an  outside  estimate;  you  could  heap  it  all  in  a  tablespoon." 

I  suggested  to  M.  Curie  the  possibility  that  some  American 
philanthropist  might  be  inspired  on  reading  his  words  to  help 
the  new  cause.  And  I  remarked  that  great  things  could  doubt- 
less be  accomplished  with  some  substantial  quantity  of  radium, 
say,  a  pound  or  two. 

He  gave  me  an  amused  look  and  asked  if  I  had  any  idea  what 
a  pound  or  two  of  radium,  say,  a  kilogram  (two  and  one-fifth 
pounds),  would  cost? 

"  Why,  no,'^  said  I ;  "no  exact  idea,  but  we  have  rich  men  in 
America,  and '' 

"  A  kilogram  of  radium  would  cost — "  He  figured  rapidly  on 
a  sheet  of  paper.  "With  the  very  cheapest  methods  that  we 
have  of  purifying  the  crude  material,  it  would  cost  about  ten 
million  francs.  Under  existing  conditions  radium  is  worth 
about  three  thousand  times  its  weight  in  pure  gold." 

"  And  yet  there  may  be  tons  of  it  in  the  earth  ?  " 

M.  Curie  was  not  so  sure  of  this.  "  It  is  doubtful,"  said  he, 
"if  there  is  very  much  radium  in  the  earth,  and  what  there  is 
is  so  thinly  scattered  in  the  surrounding  ore,  mere  traces  of 
radium  for  tons  of  worthless  rock,  that  the  cost  of  extracting  it 
is  almost  prohibitive.  You  will  realize  this  when  you  visit  our 
works  at  Ivry." 

These  works  I  visited  the  next  day  and  found  myself  outside 
the  walls  of  Paris,  near  the  old  Ivry  Cemetery,  where  some 
unpretentious  sheds  serve  for  this  important  business  of  radium 


MME.   SKLODOWSKA  CURIE, 
Who  Asfii-sted  her  Husband  in  the  Discovery  of  Radium. 


THE  STORY  OF  RADIUM  91 

extraction.  One  of  the  head  men  met  me,  and  explained  step 
by  step  how  they  obtain  this  strange  and  elusive  metal.  First 
he  showed  me  a  lumpy,  reddish  powder,  sacks  of  it,  brought 
from  Bohemia  by  the  ton,  and  constituting  the  raw  material  from 
which  the  radium  is  extracted.  This  powder  is  the  refuse  from 
uranium  mines  at  Joachimsthal,  that  is  what  remains  of  the 
original  uranite  ore,  pitchblende,  after  the  uranium  has  been 
removed.  For  years  this  refuse  was  regarded  as  worthless,  and 
was  left  to  accumulate  in  heaps,  tons  of  it,  quite  at  the  disposal 
of  whoever  chose  to  cart  it  away.  Now  that  it  is  known  to 
contain  the  rarest  and  most  precious  substance  in  the  world,  it 
goes  without  saying  that  the  owners  have  begun  to  put  a  price 
on  it. 

My  informant  referred  with  proper  pride  to  the  difficulties 
that  had  confronted  them  when  they  started  these  radium  works 
in  1901.  It  was  a  new  problem  in  practical  chemistry  to  bring 
together  infinitesimal  traces  of  a  metal  lost  in  tons  of  debris; 
it  was  like  searching  for  specks  of  dust  hidden  in  a  sand  heap,  or 
for  drops  of  perfume  scattered  in  a  river.  Still,  they  went  at  it 
with  good  heart,  for  the  end  justified  the  effort.  If  it  took  a 
ton  of  uranite  dust  to  yield  as  much  radium  as  would  half  fill  a 
doll's  thimble,  then  the  thing  to  do  was  to  have  many  tons  of 
this  dust  sent  on  from  Bohemia  and  patiently  to  accumulate, 
after  months  of  handling,  various  pinches  of  radium,  a  few 
centigrammes,  then  a  few  decigrammes,  and  finally,  some  day, 
who  could  tell,  they  might  get  as  much  as  a  gramme.  This 
was  a  distant  prospect,  to  be  sure,  yet  with  infinite  pains,  and 
all  the  resources  of  chemistry,  it  might  be  attained.  Well,  now 
they  bad  attained  it,  and  at  this  time,  he  said,  some  eight  tons 
of  uranite  detritus  had  passed  through  the  caldrons  and  great 
glass  jars  and  muddy  barrels  of  the  Ivry  establishment,  had  been 
boiled  and  filtered  and  decanted  and  crystallized,  with  much 
fuming  of  acids  and  the  steady  glow  of  furnaces;  and  out  of 
■it  all,  for  the  twenty-four  months'  effort,  there  had  come  just 
about  a  gramme  of  practically  pure  chloride  of  radium,  enough 
white  powder  to  fill  a  salt  spoon. 

Without  going  far  into  these  refining  processes,  it  may  be 
noted  that  the  radium  exists  here  in  combination  with  lead  and 
chalk  and  silica  and  iron  and  various  other  things  that  must  be 
gotten  rid  of  one  by  one,  in  a  series  of  reactions  and  operations 


^92  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

that  are  complicated  and  costly.  For  days  the  powder  must 
simmei  over  a  slow  fire  with  water  and  soda;  then  it  must 
be  decanted  into  big  barrels,  where  a  sort  of  mud  settles;  then 
this  mud  must  be  washed  and  rewashed,  and  finally  put  back  on 
the  fire  to  simmer  again  with  carbonate  of  soda.  Then  comes 
more  decanting  and  the  settling  of  more  mud  and  the  repeated 
washing  of  this,  followed  by  treatment  wdth  hydro-chloric  acid, 
which  gives  a  colorless  liquid,  containing  small  quantities  of 
radium. 

To  isolate  these  small  quantities  from  the  rest  is  now  the 
chemisf s  object,  which  is  attained  in  a  series  of  reactions  and 
crystallizations  that  finally  leave  the  precious  chloride  (or  bro- 
mide) of  radium  much  purified.  In  each  crystallization  the 
valuable  part  remains  chiefly  in  the  crystals,  which  become  pro- 
gressively richer  in  radium  and  smaller  in  bulk,  until,  finally, 
you  have  the  product  of  six  weeks'  manipulation  there  at  the 
bottom  of  a  porcelain  dish,  no  bigger  than  a  saucer,  some 
twenty-five  grammes  of  white  crystals,  and  these  at  so  low  an 
intensity  (about  2,000)  that  the  greater  part  will  be  refined 
away  by  M.  Curie  himself,  as  we  have  seen,  in  succeeding  crys- 
tallizations, and  at  the  very  end  there  will  be  left  only  a  few 
centigrammes  (at  1,500,000)  ;  what  would  cover  the  point  of  a 
knife  blade,  to  show  for  a  ton  or  so  of  uranite  powder  and 
months  of  work. 

When  next  I  saw  M.  Curie  he  had  just  returned  from  London, 
where  he  had  lectured  before  the  Eoyal  Institution.  His  hands 
were  much  peeled,  and  very  sore  from  too  much  contact  with 
radium,  and  for  several  days  he  had  been  unable  to  dress  him- 
self; but  he  took  it  good-naturedly,  and  proceeded  to  describe 
some  of  the  experiments  he  had  made  before  British  scientists. 

In  order  to  demonstrate  that  radium  throws  off  heat  continu- 
ally, he  took  two  glass  vessels,  one  containing  a  thermometer 
and  a  tube  of  radium,  the  other  containing  a  thermometer  and 
no  radium.  Both  vessels  were  closed  with  cotton  and  it  was 
presently  seen  that  the  thermometer  in  the  vessel  containing 
the  radium  registered  constantly  three  degrees  Centigrade  (5.4 
degrees  Fahrenheit)  higher  than  the  thermometer  which  was 
not  so  influenced. 

The  most  striking  experiment  presented  by  M.  Curie  in  his 
London  lecture  was  one  devised  by  him  to  prove  the  existence 


THE  STORY  OF  RADIUM  93 

of  radium  emanations,  a  kind  of  gaseous  product  (quite  differ- 
ent from  the  rays)  which  this  extraordinary  metal  seems  to 
throw  off  constantly  as  it  throws  off  heat  and  light.  These 
emanations  may  be  regarded  as  an  invisible  vapor  of  radium, 
like  water  vapor,  only  infinitely  more  subtle,  which  settles  upon 
all  objects  that  it  approaches  and  confers  upon  them,  for  a  time 
at  least,  the  mysterious' properties  of  radium  itself.  Thus  the 
yellow  powder  sulphide  of  zinc  bursts  into  a  brilliant  glow 
under  the  stimulus  of  radium  emanations,  and  to  make  it  clear 
that  this  ef  ect  is  due  to  the  emanations  and  not  to  the  rays,  M. 


Curie  constructed  an  apparatus  in  which  a  glass  tube  R  contain- 
ing a  solution  of  radium  is  connected  with  two  glass  bulbs  A  and 
B,  containing  sulphide  of  zinc. 

The  experiment  is  begun  by  exhausting  the  air  from  the  two 
bulbs  A  and  B,  by  means  of  air-pump  connections  through  the 
tube  E.  The  air  is  not  exhausted,  however,  from  the  tube  R, 
over  which  the  stop-cock  F  is  closed,  and  within  which  the 
emanations  have  been  allowed  to  accumulate.  The  room  is  now 
darkened,  and  it  is  seen  that  so  long  as  the  stop-cock  F  remains 
closed  there  is  no  glow  in  the  bulbs  A  and  B,  but  as  soon 
as  the  stop-cock  F  is  opened  both  bulbs  shine  brilliantly,  so 
that  the  light  is  plainly  visible  at  a  distance  of  several  hundred 
yards.  Now,  obviously,  if  this  effect  were  due  to  the  radium 
rays,  it  would  be  produced  whether  the  stop-cock  F  were  open 
or  closed,  since  the  radium  rays  pass  freely  through  glass  and 
need  not  follow  the  tube  S  in  order  to  reach  the  bulbs  A  and 
B.     It  is,  therefore,  clear  that  the  sudden  light  in  the  bulbs  is 


94  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

due  to  the  passage  of  something  out  of  the  tube  K,  and  through 
the  tube  S,  that  something  being  kept  back  by  the  glass  of  the 
bulb  K  until  the  stop-cock  F  is  opened.  So  we  conclude  that 
the  emanations  of  radium  cannot  pass  through  glass,  and  are  a 
manifestation  quite  distinct  from  the  rays  of  radium,  which 
can  pass  through  but  do  not  influence  the  sulphide  of  zinc. 

This  point  having  been  established,  M.  Curie  proceeded  to  the 
most  sensational  part  of  his  demonstration,  by  closing  the  stop- 
cock F  and  then  placing  the  lower  bulb  B,  still  radiant,  in  a 
vessel  G  containing  liquid  air,  the  result  being  that  the  light  in 
the  bulb  B  gradually  grew  stronger  while  the  light  in  the  bulb 
A  diminished,  until,  presently,  all  the  light  seemed  concentrated 
in  B  and  gone  from  A,  the  conclusion  being  that  the  intense 
cold  of  liquid  air  had  produced  some  change  in  the  emanations, 
had  possibly  reduced  them  from  a  gas  to  a  liquid,  thus  with- 
drawing them  from  A  to  B  and  checking  the  one  glow  while 
increasing  the  other. 

In  talking  with  Sir  William  Crookes,  M.  Curie  was  inter- 
ested to  learn  that  the  English  scientist  had  just  devised  a  curi- 
ous little  instrument  which  he  has  named  the  spinthariscope 
and  which  allows  one  to  actually  see  the  emanations  from 
radium  and  to  realize  as  never  before  the  extraordinary  atomic 
disintegration  that  is  going  on  ceaselessly  in  this  strange  metal. 
The  spinthariscope  is  a  small  microscope  that  allows  one  to  look 
at  a  tiny  fragment  of  radium,  about  one-twentieth  of  a  milli- 
gramme, supported  on  a  little  wire  over  a  screen  spread  with 
sulphide  of  zinc. 

The  experiment  must  be  made  in  a  darkened  room  after  the 
eye  has  gradually  acquired  its  greatest  sensitiveness  to  light. 
To  the  eye  thus  sensitive  and  looking  intently  through  the 
lenses  the  screen  appears  like  a  heaven  of  flashing  meteors 
among  which  stars  shine  forth  suddenly  and  die  away.  Near 
the  central  radium  speck  the  fire  shower  is  most  brilliant,  while 
towards  the  rim  of  the  circle  it  grows  fainter.  And  this  goes 
on  continuously  as  the  metal  throws  off  its  emanations;  these 
myriad  bursting  blazing  stars  are  the  emanations,  at  least  we 
may  assume  it,  and  become  visible  as  the  scattered  radium  dust 
or  radium  vapor  impinges  speck  by  speck  upon  the  screen 
which,  for  each  tiny  fragment,  flashes  back  a  responsive  phos- 
phorescence.   M.  Curie  spoke  of  this  vision,  that  was  really  con- 


THE  STORY  OF  RADIUM  95 

tained  within  the  area  of  a  two-cent  piece,  as  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  and  impressive  he  had  ever  witnessed;  it  was  as  if  he 
had  been  allowed  to  assist  at  the  birth  of  a  universe  —  or  at 
the  death  of  a  molecule. 

Dwelling  upon  the  extreme  attenuation  of  these  radium  ema- 
nations, M.  Curie  mentioned  a  recent  experiment,  in  which  he 
had  used  a  platinum  box  pierced  by  two  holes  so  extremely 
small  that  the  box  would  retain  a  vacuum,  yet  not  small  enough 
to  resist  the  passage  of  radium  emanations. 

In  view  of  the  extreme  rarity  and  costliness  of  radium,  it  is 
evident  that  its  emanations  may  be  put  to  many  important  uses 
in  and  out  of  the  laboratory,  since  they  bestow  upon  indifferent 
objects  —  a  plate,  a  piece  of  iron,  an  old  shoe,  anything  —  the 
very  properties  of  radium  itself.  Thus  a  scientist  or  a  doctor 
unable  to  procure  the  metal  radium  may  easily  experiment  with 
a  bit  of  wood  or  glass  rendered  radio-active,  that  is,  charged  by 
radium  emanations,  and  capable  of  replacing  the  original  metal 
as  long  as  the  charge  keeps  its  potency.  This  period  has  been 
determined  by  the  Curies  after  observations  extending  over 
weeks  and  months,  and  applied  to  all  sorts  of  substances,  copper, 
aluminum,  lead,  rubber,  wax,  celluloid,  paraffin,  not  less  than 
fifty  in  all,  the  resulting  conclusions  being  formulated  in  a  pre- 
cise law  as  follows : 

(1)  All  substances  may  be  rendered  radio-active  through  the  influence 
of  radium  emanations. 

(2)  Substances  thus  influenced  retain  their  induced  radio-activity  very 
much  longer  when  guarded  in  a  small  enclosure  through  which  the  ema- 
nations cannot  pass  (say  a  sealed  glass  tube)  than  when  not  so  guarded. 
In  the  former  case  their  radio-activity  diminishes  one-half  every  four 
days.  In  the  latter  case  it  diminishes  one-half  every  twenty-eight  min- 
utes. 

I  must  pass  rapidly  over  various  other  wonders  of  radium  that 
M.  Curie  laid  before  me  in  subsequent  conversations.  There  is 
matter  here  for  a  book,  not  a  magazine  article,  and  new  matter 
is  accumulating  every  week  as  the  outcome  of  new  investiga- 
tions. Even  in  the  chemistry  of  radium,  which  is  practically  an 
unexplored  field,  owing  to  the  scarcity  and  costliness  of  the 
metal,  there  are  various  facts  to  be  noted,  as  these :  that  radium 
changes  the  color  of  phosphorus  from  yellow  to  red;  that  radium 
rays  increase  the  production  of  ozone  in  certain  cases;  that  a 


96  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

small  quantity  of  radium  dissolved  in  water  throws  off  hydrogen 
constantly  by  causing  a  disintegration  of  the  water,  the  oxygen 
released  being  absorbed  in  some  unknown  molecular  combina- 
tion. Also  that  a  solution  of  radium  gives  a  violet  or  brownish 
tint  to  a  glass  vessel  containing  it,  this  tint  being  permanent, 
unless  the  glass  be  heated  red-hot.  Here,  by  the  way,  is  an 
application  of  importance  in  the  arts,  for  radium  may  thus 
be  used  to  modify  the  colors  of  glass  and  crystals,  possibly  of 
gems.  It  is  furthermore  established  that  radium  offers  a  ready 
means  of  distinguishing  real  from  imitation  diamonds,  since  it 
causes  the  real  stones  to  burst  into  a  brilliant  phosphorescence 
when  brought  near  them  in  a  darkened  room,  while  it  has 
scarcely  any  such  effect  upon  false  stones.  M.  Curie  made  this 
experiment  recently  at  a  reception  in  Lille,  to  the  great  delight 
of  the  guests. 

In  concluding  the  physical  and  chemical  side  of  my  subject,  I 
must  not  fail  to  point  out  this  singular  fact :  that  a  given  quan- 
tity of  radium,  no  matter  how  intense,  may  be  shorn  of  its 
power  to  emit  heat  and  light  and  of  its  other  properties,  indeed, 
may  be  rendered  quite  inert,  at  least  for  the  time,  either  by 
submitting  it  (in  solid  form)  to  a  prolonged  heating  at  about 
1,000  degrees  Centigrade,  or  by  keeping  it  for  a  number  of 
hours  in  a  vacuum.  Why  this  treatment  should  effect  such  a 
change  is  not  understood,  or  why  the  radium  thus  despoiled 
should  recover  its  full  energy  by  the  gradual  lapse  of  time,  say, 
two  or  three  months.  These  must  be  numbered  among  the 
many  mysteries  of  the  subject. 

Coming  now  to  what  may  be  the  most  important  properties 
of  radium,  that  is,  those  which  influence  animal  life,  we  may 
follow  M.  Curie's  advice  and  visit  the  Pasteur  Institute,  where 
for  some  months  now  a  remarkable  series  of  radium  tests  have 
been  in  progress.  In  the  second  courtyard  at  the  left,  there 
where  the  hydrophobia  dogs  are  always  yelping,  we  shall  find 
M.  Danysz  clad  in  his  laboratory  blouse  and  ready  to  explain, 
as  far  as  he  is  able,  the  extraordinary  effects  of  radium  upon 
rabbits,  guinea  pigs,  mice,  and  other  small  creatures  that  are 
exposed  to  the  rays  of  this  strange  metal.  One  may  say  briefly 
that  these  effects  have  usually  been  destructive,  the  animals 
treated  have  nearly  always  died,  but  there  is  much  in  the  manner 
of  their  death  that  merits  our  attention,  since  here  seems  to  lie 


THE  STORY  OF  RADIUM  97 

a  promise  of  new  knowledge  touching  the  very  mysteries  of 
death  and  of  life. 

Glancing  rapidly  over  these  experiments,  it  is  at  once  appar- 
ent that  radium  has  formidable  powers  of  destruction,  and  can 
by  its  mere  presence  annihilate  animal  life  or  plant  life.  Here 
is  one  instance  among  many:  On  May  13,  1903,  a  little  chlo- 
ride of  radium  (five  centigrammes)  was  suspended  over  the  cage 
of  eight  white  mice,  two  parent  mice  and  six  little  ones,  and 
was  left  there  for  three  days  and  then  removed.  The  mice  con- 
tinued to  eat  and  run  about  as  usual  until  May  16,  when  the 
little  ones  began  to  lose  the  fur  on  their  backs.  On  the  19th 
their  backs  were  quite  bare  of  fur,  although  their  heads  remained 
covered,  which  gave  them  the  appearance  of  little  white  lions. 
On  the  21st  the  little  ones  became  blind,  although  they  contin- 
ued to  eat  well.  On  the  33d  one  of  the  little  ones  died.  On 
the  24th  three  died.  On  the  25th  the  remaining  two  died.  On 
the  5th  of  June  both  the  parent  mice  became  blind.  On  the 
28th  both  the  parent  mice  died.  This  was  the  work  of  a  few 
grains  of  radium  in  a  tiny  glass  tube. 

In  another  case  two  full-grown  mice  were  exposed  continu- 
ously to  the  same  quantity  (five  centigrammes)  of  radium  for 
ten  days.  For  nine  days  they  remained  perfectly  well,  although 
they  showed  fear,  but  on  the  tenth  day  they  died  without  losing 
their  fur.  This  experiment  was  repeated  with  another  pair  of 
mice  under  the  same  conditions,  except  that  the  radium  used 
was  only  half  as  intense,  and  in  this  case  the  mice  died  in  twenty- 
two  days  and  twenty-six  days,  respectively,  and  on  the  twen- 
tieth day  they  began  to  lose  their  fur.  M.  Danysz  draws  impor- 
tant conclusions  touching  the  nature  of  the  rays  from  the  fact 
that  the  mice  did  or  did  not  lose  their  fur. 

Similar  experiments  were  made  upon  other-  animals  under 
varying  conditions,  the  result  being  almost  invariably  death 
after  a  longer  or  shorter  time,  according  to  the  animals'  resist- 
ance. Eabbits  were  killed,  guinea  pigs  were  killed,  embryo 
chickens  exposed  to  radium  ra3^s  during  incubation  (some  on 
the  first  day,  some  on  the  tenth,  some  on  the  last  day)  were 
all  killed,  plants  were  killed,  and  M.  Danysz  is  convinced  that 
all  animals,  probably  all  forms  of  life,  would  succumb  to  the 
destructive  force  of  radium  if  employed  in  sufficient  quantities. 

"  I  have  no  doubt,"  said  he,  "  that  a  kilogram  of  radium  would 


98  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

be  sufficient  to  destro}^  the  population  of  Paris,  granting  that 
they  came  within  its  influence.  Men  and  women  would  be 
killed  just  as  these  mice  were  killed.  They  would  feel  nothing 
during  their  exposure  to  the  radium  nor  realize  that  they  were 
in  any  danger.  And  weeks  would  pass  after  their  exposure 
before  anything  would  happen.  Then  gradually  the  skin  would 
begin  to  peel  off,  and  their  bodies  would  become  one  great  sore. 
Then  they  would  become  blind.  Then  they  would  die  from 
paralysis  and  congestion  of  the  spinal  cord.'^ 

Despite  this  rather  gloomy  prospect,  certain  experiments  at 
the  Pasteur  Institute  may  encourage  us  to  believe  that,  for  all 
its  menace  of  destruction,  radium  is  destined  to  bring  substan- 
tial benefits  to  suffering  humankind.  The  substance  of  these 
favorable  experiments  is  that  while  animal  life  may  undoubt- 
edly suffer  great  harm  from  radium  when  used  in  excess  or 
wrongly  used  (the  same  is  true  of  strychnine),  it  may  also 
derive  immense  good  from  radium  when  used  within  proper 
bounds,  these  to  be  set  when  we  have  gained  a  fuller  knowl- 
edge of  the  subject.  Meantime  it  is  worthy  of  note  that  some 
of  M.  Danysz's  animals,  when  exposed  to  the  radium  for  a  short 
time,  or  to  radium  of  lower  intensity,  or  to  radium  at  a  greater 
distance,  have  not  perished,  but  have  seemed  to  thrive  under  the 
treatment.  A  rabbit,  for  instance,  underwent  this  attenuated 
radium  treatment,  with  the  result  that  its  fur,  instead  of  falling 
off,  grew  more  abundantly. 

But  the  most  startling  experiment  performed  thus  far  at  the 
Pasteur  Institute  is  one  undertaken  by  M.  Danysz,  February  3, 
1903,  when  he  placed  three  or  four  dozen  little  worms  that  live 
in  flour,  the  larvae  Ephestia  IcuehnieUa,  in  a  glass  flask,  where 
they  were  exposed  for  a  few  hours  to  the  rays  of  radium.  He 
placed  a  like  number  of  larvae  in  a  control  flask,  where  there  was 
no  radium,  and  he  left  enough  flour  in  each  flask  for  the  larvae 
to'  live  upon.  After  several  weeks  it  was  found  that  most  of 
the  larvae  in  the  radium  flask  had  been  killed,  but  that  a  few 
of  them  had  escaped  the  destructive  action  of  the  rays  by  crawl- 
ing away  to  distant  corners  of  the  flask,  where  they  were  still 
living.  But  they  were  living  as  larvcE,  not  as  moths,  whereas  in 
the  natural  course  they  should  have  become  moths  long  before, 
as  was  seen  by  the  control  flask,  where  the  larvae  had  all  changed 
into  moths,  and  these  had  hatched  their  eggs  into  other  larvaB 


THE  STORY  OF  RADIUM  99 

and  these  had  produced  other  moths.  All  of  which  made  it  clear 
that  the  radium  rays  had  arrested  the  development  of  these 
little  worms. 

More  weeks  passed  and  still  three  or  four  of  the  larvae  lived, 
and  four  full  months  after  the  original  exposure  I  saw  a  larva 
alive  and  wriggling  while  its  contemporar}^  larv^  in  the  other 
jar  had  long  since  passed  away  as  aged  moths,  leaving  genera- 
tions of  moths'  eggs  and  larvae  to  witness  this  miracle,  for  here 
was  a  larva,  venerable  among  his  kind,  a  patriarch  E plies tia 
l:uehniella,  that  had  actually  lived  through  tliree  times  the  span 
of  life  accorded  to  his  fellows  and  that  still  showed  no  sign  of 
changing  into  a  moth.  It  was  very  much  as  if  a  young  man 
of  twenty-one  should  keep  the  appearance  of  twenty-one  for 
two  hundred  and  fifty  years ! 

Not  less  remarkable  than  these  are  some  recent  experiments 
made  by  M.  Bohn  at  the  biological  laboratories  of  the  Sorbonne, 
his  conclusions  being  that  radium  may  so  far  modify  various 
lower  forms  of  life  as  to  actually  produce  "  monsters,"  abnormal 
deviations  from  the  original  type  of  the  species.  Thus  tadpole 
monsters  have  been  formed  from  tadpoles  exposed  four  days 
after  birth  to  radium  rays.  Some  of  these  monsters  lived  for 
twenty-three  days,  and  would  doubtless  have  lived  longer  had 
they  been  exposed  to  the  rays  for  a  shorter  time.  No  changes 
occur  in  the  tadpoles  treated  except  at  the  transition  points  of 
growth,  as  on  the  eighth  day,  when  the  breathing  tentacles  are 
covered  by  gills  in  the  normal  tadpole,  but  are  not  so  covered 
in  the  monsters  formed  after  radium  treatment.  These  mon- 
sters take  on  a  new  form,  with  an  increasing  atrophy  of  the 
tail  and  a  curious  wrinkling  of  the  tissues  back  of  the  head;  in 
fact,  they  may  be  said  to  develop  a  new  breathing  apparatus, 
quite  different  from  that  of  ordinary  tadpoles. 

M.  Bohn  has  obtained  similar  results  with  eggs  of  the  toad 
and  eggs  of  the  sea-urchin,  monsters  resulting  in  both  cases 
and  continuing  to  live  for  a  number  of  days  or  weeks  after 
exposure  to  the  radium.  Furthermore,  he  has  been  able  to 
accomplish  with  radium  what  Professor  Loeb  did  with  saline 
solutions;  that  is,  to  cause  the  growth  of  unfecundated  eggs  of 
the  sea-urchin,  and  to  advance  these  through  several  stages  of 
their  development.    In  other  words,  he  has  used  radium  to  create 


Lof 


100  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

life  where  there  would  have  been  no  life  but  for  this  strange 
stimulation. 

M.  Bohn  assured  me  of  his  conviction  that  we  may  in  the 
future  be  able  to  produce  new  species  of  insects,  moths,  butter- 
flies, perhaps  birds  and  fishes,  by  simply  treating  the  eggs  with 
radium  rays,  the  result  being  that  interesting  changes  will  be 
effected  in  the  coloring  and  adornment.  He  also  believes  that 
with  greater  quantites  of  radium  at  our  disposal  and  a  fuller 
understanding  of  its  properties,  it  may  be  possible  to  produce 
new  species  among  larger  creatures,  mice,  rabbits,  guinea  pigs, 
etc.  It  is  merely  a  question  of  degree,  for  if  new  types  can  be 
produced  in  one  species  why  may  they  not  be  produced  in 
another  ? 

It  remains  to  mention  certain  important  services  that  radium 
may  render  in  the  cure  of  bodily  ills,  notably  of  lupus  and  other 
skin  diseases.  Here  is  a  great  new  field  full  of  promise,  yet 
one  that  must  be  considered  with  guarded  affirmation,  lest  false 
hopes  be  aroused.  It  is  too  soon  as  yet  to  say  more  than  this, 
that  distinguished  doctors  speak  with  confidence  of  excellent 
results  that  may  be  looked  for  from  the  radium  treatment.  Dr. 
Danlos,  for  instance,  has  used  the  radium  rays  on  lupus  patients 
at  the  St.  Louis  Hospital  in  Paris  for  over  a  year,  and  in  several 
cases  has  accomplished  apparent  cures.  The  radium  used  is 
enclosed  between  two  small  disks  of  copper  and  aluminum,  the 
whole  being  about  the  size  of  a  silver  dollar.  The  aluminum 
disk,  which  is  very  thin,  is  pressed  against  the  affected  part  and 
left  there  for  fifteen  minutes;  that  is  all  there  is  to  the  treat- 
ment, except  cleansing,  bandaging,  etc.  Day  after  day,  for 
weeks  or  months,  this  contact  with  the  disk  is  continued,  and 
after  a  period  of  irritation  the  sores  heal,  leaving  healthy,  white 
scars.  Some  patients  thus  treated  have  gone  for  months  with- 
out a  relapse,  but  it  is  too  soon  to  declare  the  cures  absolute. 
They  loolc  like  absolute  cures,  that  is  all  Dr.  Danlos  will  say, 
and  if  time  proves  that  they  are  absolute  cures,  then  radium 
will  do  for  lupus  patients  all  that  Finsen's  lamps  do  and  will 
do  it  more  quickly,  more  simply,  and  with  no  cumbersome  and 
costly  apparatus.  It  may  be  objected  that  radium  also  is  costly, 
but  the  answer  is  that  radium  will  probably  become  cheaper  as 
the  supply  increases  and  as  the  processes  of  extracting  it  are  per- 
fected.    Furthermore,  the  effects  of  radium  may  be  obtained, 


THE  STORY  OF  RADIUM  101 

as  already  stated,  by  the  use  of  indifferent  bodies  rendered  radio- 
active, so  that  lupus  patients  may  be  treated  with  a  piece  of 
wood  or  a  piece  of  glass  possessed  for  the  moment  of  the  virtues 
of  radium.  And  certain  kinds  of  cancer  may  be  similarly 
treated;  indeed,  a  London  physician  has  already  reported  a  case 
of  cancer  cured  by  radium. 

These  are  possibilities,  not  certainties,  and  there  are  others. 
It  appears  that  radium  has  a  bactericidal  action  in  certain  cases, 
and  it  would  therefore  seem  reasonable  that  air  rendered  radio- 
active may  benefit  sufferers  from  lung  troubles  if  breathed  into 
the  lungs,  or  that  water  rendered  radio-active  may  benefit  suf- 
ferers from  stomach  troubles  if  taken  into  the  stomach.  It 
goes  without  saying  that  in  all  these  cases  the  use  of  radium 
must  be  attended  with  extreme  precautions,  so  that  harmful 
effects  may  be  avoided. 

Just  as  I  was  leaving  Paris  I  learned  of  an  interesting  and 
significant  new  fact  about  radium,  one  that  greatly  impressed 
M.  Curie,  namely,  that  the  air  from  deep  borings  in  the  earth 
is  found  to  be  radio-active,  and  that  the  waters  from  mineral 
springs  are  radio-active.  This  would  seem  to  indicate  the  pres- 
ence of  radium  in  the  earth  in  considerable  quantities,  and  that 
would  mean  more  abundant  and  cheaper  radium  in  the  not  dis- 
tant future.  One  of  the  things  to  be  hoped  for  now  is  the  dis- 
covery of  a  single  simple  reaction  by  which  radium  may  be 
easily  separated  from  the  dross  that  contains  it,  and  any  day 
the  chemists  may  put  their  hands  on  such  a  reaction. 

And  then  —  well,  it  is  best  to  avoid  sweeping  statements,  but 
there  is  certainly  reason  to  believe  that  we  are  entering  upon  a 
domain  of  new,  strange  knowledge  and  drawing  near  to  some 
of  nature's  most  hallowed  secrets. 


102  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


ABSOLUTE  COLD. 

By  HENRY  DESMAREST. 

WHEN  a  body  loses  its  heat,  it  cools,  in  a  relative  sense, 
since  it  can  be  cold  only  by  comparison  with  a  warmer 
body. 

Diminution  of  heat  transforms  all  bodies,  profoundly  modify- 
ing their  physical  and  chemical  properties.  The  nature  of  heat  is 
still  unknown,  as  is  the  nature  of  light  and  of  electricity.  As 
yet,  we  are  restricted  to  more  or  less  ingenious  hypotheses. 

If  we  could  extract  from  a  body  all  the  heat  that  it  contains, 
we  should  attain  what  it  is  agreed  to  call  absolute  zero.  But 
this  experiment  has  not  yet  been  made,  notwithstanding  the 
most  recent  researches  into  liquefied  gas.* 

In  nature,  in  the  normal  atmospheric  air  that  we  breathe,  in 
which  we  evolve,  cold  is  never  very  intense,  and  is  singularly  re- 
moved from  absolute  zero.  Nevertheless,  between  the  extreme 
temperatures  observed  in  tropical  climates  and  in  polar  zones,  it 
is  possible  to  establish  a  difference  of  about  120  degrees  Centi- 
grade. This  is  prodigious  if  we  reflect  that  our  organism,  which 
is  so  delicate,  can  withstand  this  variation  in  calorific  intensity, 
provided,  of  course,  that  it  be  graduated  thereto,  for  it  is 
doubtful  if  any  human  being  could  pass  with  impunity  from  a 
temperature  of  -}-55  degrees,  observed  in  Africa,  to  — 65  de- 
grees, registered  in  boreal  America.f 

•  At  a  height  of  some  miles,  the  atmosphere  is  singularly  cold, 
and  the  layer  of  warm  air  immediately  in  contact  with  the 

*  While  waiting  for  the  attainment  of  absolute  zero,  physicists  fix  it 
conventionally  at  273  degrees  Centigrade,  that  is  to  sa.y,  273  degrees  be- 
low melting  ice,  applying  to  the  lowest  temperatures  the  law  of  the  dila- 
tation of  gases,  whose  co-efficient  is  almost  without  variation  1/273  at  ac- 
cessible temperatures.  In  fact,  if  this  law  were  rigorously  true,  gas 
would  have  no  volume  under  any  pressure  or  no  pressure  whatever  the 
volume  at  — 273  degrees. 

t  In  a  Centigrnde  temperature,  the  minus  sign  ( — )  always  denotes 
"colder    than    freezing"    Fahrenheit    temperature.     The    temperature    of 


ABSOLUTE  COLD 


103 


ground  is  but  a  thin  film  in  comparison  with  the  surface  of  the 
earth.  Since  the  international  organization  of  the  service  of 
balloon  tests,  it  has  been  possible  to  establish,  in  a  very  precise 
fashion,  the  difference  that  exists  between  the  temperature  of 
the  ground  and  the  temperature  of  the  upper  atmosphere.  Thus, 
in  April,  1903,  France,  Germany,  Eussia,  Austria  and  the 
United  States  co-operated  in  meteorological  observations  having 
for  their  object  to  determine  the  temperature  at  lofty  alti- 
tudes. By  the  aid  of  balloons  equipped  with  registering  appa- 
ratus, the  following  temperatures  were  ascertained.  At  Trap- 
pes,  at  an  altitude  of  8,550  metres  *  the  minimum  temperature 
was  — 4:7  degrees  (6.8  at  departure).  At  Itteville  (Paris)  an 
ascension  made  at  evening  gave  the  very  low  temperature  of  — 54 
degrees  at  9,650  meters  (8  at  departure),  or  62  degrees  differ- 
ence for  nine  kilometers  and  a  half.  At  Strasburg  the  balloon 
rose  to  a  height  of  10,000  meters.  The  minimum  temperature 
observed  was  — 44.4  degrees  (5.7  upon  departure  at  five  o'clock 
4nr  the  morning) .    At  Berlin,  at  a  height  of  8,380  meters  the  tem- 


+  55  degrees  Centigrade,  observed  in  Africa,  would  be  one  of  131  degrees 
Fahrenheit.  The  following  table  gives  the  comparative  scale  of  the  two 
thermometers : 


Centi- 

Fahr- 

Centi- 

Fahr- 

grade, 

enheit, 

grade, 

enheit, 

100°. 

212°. 

Water  Boils 
AT  Sea-Level. 

100°. 

212°. 

95 

203 

15.3 

60 

Temperate. 

90 

194 

12.8 

55 

85 

185 

10 

50 

78.9 

174 

7.2 

45 

75 

167 

Alcohol  Boils. 

5 

41 

70 

158 

1.7 

35 

65 
60 
55 

149 
140 
131 

0 

—  1.1 

—  5 

32 
30 
23 

Water 

Freezes. 

52.8 

127 

Tallow  Melts. 

—  6.7 

20 

50 
45 

122 
113 

—10 

—12.2 

14 
10 

Zero  Fahr. 

42.2 

108 

—15 

5 

40 

104 

— 17.  8 

0 

36.7 

98 

Blood  Heat. 

— 20 

—  4 

35 

95 

—25 

— 13 

32.2 

90 

—30 

—22 

30 

86 

—35 

— 31 

26.7 
25 

80 

77 

—40 

—40 

20 

68 

*  A  metre  is  about  a  yard.     A  kilometre  is  about  half  a  mile. 


104  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

perature  was  — i2  degrees  (2  at  departure).  Two  hours  earlier, 
at  4.57  a.  m.,  a  balloon  registered  a  temperature  of  47.8  degrees 
at  a  height  of  8,670  meters.  At  Blue  Hill  (U.  S.),  a  flying  kite 
went  up  3,067  meters,  the  temperature  recorded  being  — 6.2 
degrees.  The  temperature  recorded  at  the  observatory  at  the 
same  time  was  8.1  degrees. 

In  the  polar  regions  it  is  not  unusual  to  record  quite  low  tem- 
peratures during  the  winter  season. 

The  average  temperatures  observed  aboard  the  Fram,  from 
1893  to  1896  were  —18,  —20.6,  —18.1,  in  Lady  Franklin  Bay, 
from  1881  to  1883 ;  —20.4,  —19.3  in  Floberg  Beach  from  1875 
to  1876,  which  is  moderate.  But  in  Symmons's  Meteorological 
Magazine,  Mr.  Hugh  Eobert  Will  has  published  a  note  upon  the 
meteorological  observations  made  by  Mr.  Charles  Eoyds,  meteor- 
ologist of  the  English  Antarctic  expedition  aboard  the  Discovery, 
in  lat.  77°  49'  S.,  long.  166°  E.,  twenty-one  miles  from  the  vol- 
cano Erebus,  in  which  we  find  registered  a  minimum  of  38,  39, 
43.8  degrees  below  zero  (Fahrenheit). 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  circumpolar  regions  have  no  occasion  to 
envy  the  temperatures  of  the  upper  atmosphere.  In  our  tem- 
perate regions  the  minimum  temperatures  seldom  exceed  — 25 
degrees.  The  lowest  natural  temperatures,  produced,  that  is  to 
say,  by  meteorological  phenomena,  are  extremely  high  if  com- 
pared with  those  obtained  by  the  rapid  evaporation  of  liquefied 
gases  which  sensibly  approach  absolute  zero,  or  — 273  degrees. 

It  is  known  that  if  an  evaporating  liquid  does  not  receive  a 
quantity  of  heat  equivalent  to  that  which  becomes  latent,  the  tem- 
perature immediately  drops,  the  more  considerably  as  the  evapora- 
tion is  the  more  rapid.  Everyone  is  acquainted  with  Leslie's 
classical  experiment:  the  freezing  of  evaporated  water  in  the 
vacuum  of  a  pneumatic  bell,  the  vapors  produced  being  absorbed 
by  a  very  hygrometric  body,  such  as  sulphuric  acid,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  maintaining  the  vacuum  —  the  vapor  of  water  (steam), 
even  at  a  very  low  temperature,  having  still  a  very  appreciable 
tension.  Upon  this  phenomenon  was  based  Carrels  little  ice  ma- 
chine, of  which  to-day  there  exist  as  many  models  as  there  are 
makers.  If  we  operate  with  liquids  more  volatile  than  water  we 
obtain  a  more  considerable  lowering  and  it  is  thus,  from  fall  to 
fall,  that  we  attain  the  liquefaction  of  all  gases  formerly  consid- 
ered permanent. 


ABSOLUTE  COLD  105 

First  of  all,  Faraday,  with  the  aid  of  very  rudimentary  pro- 
cesses, made  methodical  researches  into  the  liquefaction  of  gases. 
"  In  one  of  the  branches  of  a  V-shaped  tube  of  small  dimensions 
and  fastened  to  the  lamp,  Faraday  placed  substances  capable  of 
giving,  by  the  action  of  heat  or  by  chemical  reaction,  a  great 
volume  of  gas  for  liquefaction;  the  latter,  thus  enclosed  in  a 
small  space,  became  compressed  and  liquefied  in  the  other  branchy 
which  had  previously  been  cooled.  The  sulphuric  and  carbonic 
anhydrides,  sulphuric  hydrogen,  chlorhydric  acid  and  others  were 
thus  liquefied  by  Faraday  in  1823." 

For  the  first  time,  in  1834,  Thilorier  liquefied  carbonic-acid  gas 
in  bulk.  By  quickly  opening  to  the  free  air  the  receiver  contain- 
ing the  liquefied  gas,  he  beheld  the  liquid  solidify  itself  into  a 
kind  of  snow  which  gave  a  reduction  of  — 79  degrees.  Faraday, 
in  1845,  made  use  of  this  snow  as  a  refrigerant.  By  mixing  it 
with  ether  and  evaporating  it  in  a  vacuum  he  obtained  a  tem- 
perature of  — 110  degrees,  which,  with  a  pressure  of  fifty  atmos- 
pheres, permitted  him  to  liquefy  '*  ethylene,  the  fluoboric  and 
fluosilicic  acids,  phosphorate  hydrogen  and  arsenicated  hydro- 
gen." Hydrogen,  oxygen,  azote,  bioxide  of  azote,  oxide  of  car- 
bon and  formen  could  not  then  be  liquefied  and  they  were  called 
permanent  gases.  Tn  1861,  Andrews  tried  to  liquefy  the  perma- 
nent gases  by  subjecting  them  to  great  pressures  and  chilling 
them  like  Faraday,  but  this  process  yielded  no  result  whatever. 

Then,  by  a  series  of  experiments,  which  it  would  require  too 
much  space  to  recount  here,  Andrews  showed  that  above  a  certain 
temperature,  st5^1ed  critical  temperature,  varying  for  every  sub- 
stance, gases  can  not  assume  liquid  form,  whatever  be  the  pres- 
sure to  which  they  are  subjected.  "  From  that  time  was  explained 
the  failure  of  efforts  upon  gases  called  permanent.  The  mixture 
of  carbonic  snow  and  ether  had  not  furnished  a  temperature  suf- 
ficiently low  to-  determine  liquefaction.  The  efforts  of  investi- 
gators thereafter  were  directed  to  methods  of  cooling."  Let  us 
note  here  that  the  critical  temperature  of  carbonic  acid  is  31 
degrees  above  zero,  that  of  acetylene  37  degrees,  that  of  chlorine 
140  degrees,  finally,  that  of  sulphuric  acid  is  155  degrees.  These 
critical  temperatures  are,  therefore,  higher  than  the  temperatures 
of  our  climates.  '^  Under  ordinary  circumstances,  these  gases 
are  thus  below  their  critical  temperatures.  It  is  thus  not  sur- 
prising that  at  their  first  efforts  the  physicists  of  the  last  een- 


106 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


tury,  the  Faradays  and  the  Thiloriers,  had  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  these  gases  liquefy  upon  the  mere  application  of  suf- 
ficient pressure."    . 

Two  modes  of  cooling  have  been  employed.  By  the  sudden 
expansion  of  a  liquefied  gas^  a  more  considerable  lowering  of 
temperature  was  obtained.  A  gas  suddenly  expanded  cooled  at  a 
temperature  that  might  be  rather,  low  for  liquefying  it,  notwith- 
standing the  small  pressure  then  afforded  by  the  apparatus.  By 
this  automatic  cooling,  Cailletet,  in  1877,  liquefied  permanent 
gases,  except  hydrogen.  At  the  same  period  Pictet  liquefied 
oxygen  by  another  process.     "Taking  advantage  of  the  cold 


Fig.  1.     Scheme  of  De war's  Apparatus. 

A,  Entrance  for  Air  or  Oxygen;  B,  Entrance  for  Carbonic  Acid;  C, 
Valve  for  the  Expansion  of  Carbonic  Acid ;  D,  Worm  for  the  recovery  of 
the  Cold;  E,  Valve  for  the  Expansion  of  the  Oxygen;  F,  Tube  Con- 
taining Liquified  Gas;  G,  Exit  of  the  Carbonic  Gas  and  Oxygen;  o. 
Tubes  for  the  Passage  of  the  air;  o,  Tubes  for  the  Passage  of  Car- 
bonic Gas. 


ABSOLUTE  COLD 


107 


produced  hy  the  evaporation  of  liquefied  sulphuric  gas,  Pictet 
liquefied  and  solidified  carbonic-acid  gas.  The  evaporation  of 
the  latter,  effected  in  the  vacuum  of  a  pneumatic  machine,  sup- 
plied a  temperature  of  — 130  degrees,  lower  than  the  critical 
temperature  of  oxygen,  which,  from  that  time,  could  be  lique- 
fied. This  is  the  process  of  cooling  styled  that  of  the  cascade  or 
successive  falls  of  temperature."  Yroblefiski  and  Olzefiski  suc- 
ceeded in  obtaining  gases  in  a  liquid  state  in  sufficient  quantity 
to  determine  their  ebullition  temperature  under  atmospheric 
pressure,  x^ir  boils  at  — 192.3  degrees;  azote  at  — 193  degrees; 
oxide  of  carbon  at  — 186  degrees;  marsh  gas  at  — 164  degrees. 

It  was  James  Dewar,  an  English  physicist,  who,  in  1898,  was 
the  first  to  liquefy  hydrogen.  With  the  apparatus  shown  here 
(Fig.  1),  he  was  able  to  liquefy  and  solidify  ver}^  considerable 
quantities  of  atmospheric  air  to  cool  hydrogen  at  — 205  degrees. 
Next  compressing  it  under  a  pressure  of  180  atmospheres  he 
obtained  stable  liquid  hydrogen,  of  which  he  determined  the 
temperature  of  ebullition  under  atmospheric  pressure. 

If  we  imagine  a  special  thermometer  having  a  scale  of  which 
the  zero  is  the  conventional  absolute  zero,  melting  ice  would 


Fig.  2.  Laboratory   Thermometer   of   Travers   atto   Jacquerod   for 

THE    MeASUREME^'T    OF    EXTREME    COLD. 

A,  Ball  of  the  Thermometer;  B,  Tube;  C,  Space  with  Point;  D,  Bar- 
ometric Tube ;  E,  Mercury  Reservoir ;  F,  Stopcock. 


108  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

mark  273  degrees  above  absolute  zero  and  boiling  water  373 
degrees. 

We  give  here  the  scheme  of  a  hydrogen  thermometer  of  Dr. 
Jacquerod  and  Mr.  Travers,  of  Universit}^  College^  London,  ior 
the  measurement  of  yqij  low  temperatures.  "  Hydrogen  fills 
the  ball  A,  the  tube  B,  and  the  little  space  C  (Fig.  2).  The 
mercury  is  always  brought  into  contact,  in  the  interior  of  C, 
with  a  little  point  of  glass  on  which  the  reading  is  done.  The 
pressure  of  the  gas  is  measured  by  taking  the  vertical  height, 
above  the  level  C,  of  the  mercury  filling  the  tube  D,  in  the 
upper  part  of  which  the  barometric  vacuum  prevails.  If  a  gas 
be  maintained  at  a  constant  volume,  but  its  temperature  be 
modified,  the  pressure  increases  or  decreases,  for  each  degree  it 
is  heated  or  cooled,  from  1/273  of  the  pressure  supported  by  the 
gas  to  0  degrees  C.  Therefore,  if  the  pressure  at  0  degrees  C. 
is  of  273  units,  it  will  be  of  373  units  at  the  boiling  point  of 
water,  and  of  20.5  units  at  the  boiling  point  of  hydrogen." 

Let  us  suppose  the  mercury  is  brought  into  contact  with  the 
point  C  before  taking  a  measurement,  in  order  to  maintain  the 
gas  at  a  constant  volume.  The  level  of  the  point  is  marked  0" 
on  the  gas  scale  and  273°  on  the  Centigrade  scale,  as  if,  at  this 
hypothetical  temperature,  the  gas  no  longer  exerted  any  pres- 
sure at  all.  The  level  at  which  the  mercury  stops  when  the  ball 
A  is  plunged  into  ice  is  marked  273°  on  the  gas  scale  and 
0°  on  the  Centigrade  scale.  The  intermediate  series  of  temper- 
atures is  divided  into  273  degrees. 

^^  To  measure  the  temperature  of  liquid  air,  we  place  an 
evacuated  receiver,  containing  the  liquid,  under  the  ball  of  the 
thermometer  and  raise  it  slowly  until  the  latter  is  completely 
immersed.  Before  this  operation,  and  in  order  to  prevent  the 
mercury  from  penetrating  into  the  ball,  we  remove  a  small 
quantity  of  the  mercury  from  the  apparatus  by  lowering  the 
reservoir  E  and  opening  the  stopcock  F.  When  the  ball  is  com- 
pletely cooled,  we  again  bring  the  mercury  into  contact  with 
the  point.  The  pressure  of  the  gas  in  the  thermometer,  when 
the  ball  was  immersed  in  the  ice,  was  273  units.  It  is  now 
about  90  units,  the  temperatures  of  ice  and  of  liquid  air  cor- 
responding respectively  to  273  degrees  and  90  degrees  on  the 
gas  scale.  The  temperature  of  liquid  air  is  however  variable, 
since  oxygen  boils  at  90.1  degrees  and  azote  at  77.5  degrees 


ABSOLUTE  COLD 


109 


on  the  hydrogen  scale.  Consequently,  azote  evaporates  more 
rapidly.  If  we  make  liquid  air  boil  in  a  vacuum,  the  tempera- 
ture falls  below  — 200  degrees  C,  or  about  70  degrees  on  the 
gas  scale." 

By  operating  in  the  same  way  for  liquid  hydrogen,  we  find  a 
temperature  of  20  units  on  the  hydrogen  scale  at  a  constant 
volume,  which  is  equivalent  to  — 253  degrees  C. 

With  the  object  of  separating  newly  discovered  gases  in  the 
atmosphere,  the  neon  of  argon  and  of  helium,  Mr.  W.  Travers 
conceived  the  plan  of  separating  gases  by  means  of  liquid 
hydrogen.    The  ball  A  (Fig.  3)  is  attached  to  a  stopcock  with 


Fig.  3. 

two  outlets,  which  communicate  on  one  side  with  a  washing 
flask  B,  containing  sulphuric  acid,  with  a  gasometer  C,  con- 
taining air,  and  on  the  other  side  with  a  Pliicker  tube  D,  in 
which  a  vacuum  has  been  made  by  means  of  a  mercury  pump. 
We  may  surround  the  ball  A  with  liquid  air  and  by  causing  the 
latter  to  boil  under  reduced  pressure,  the  liquid  air  can  be  con- 
densed in  the  ball.  When  two  liters  of  air  have  been  condensed, 
we  may  close  the  stopcock  and  the  receiver  containing  liquid 
hydrogen,  prepared  some  moments  previously.  The  liquid  air 
now  solidifies  in  the  ball,  but,  as  helium  can  not  be  liquefied  at 
13  degrees  absolute  and  as  neon  has  still  a  considerable  pressure 
of  vapor  at  the  temperature  of  liquid  hydrogen,  these  two  sub- 
stances remain  in  a  gaseous  state.  If  we  turn  the  stopcock  so 
as  to  place  the  ball  in  communication  with  the  Pliicker  tube, 
the  gases  penetrate  into  the  tube,  which,  traversed  by  an  elec- 
tric discharge,  emits  a  pale  rose  gleam.  Then  the  spectrum  of 
neon  and  that  of  helium  become  visible." 

According  to  the  experiments  of  Mr.  W.  Travers,  "the  low- 
est temperature  measured  is  that  of  the  melting  point  of  solid 


no  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

hydrogen,  that  is,  14.1  degrees  absolute.  By  causing  solid 
hydrogen  to  evaporate  under  reduced  pressure,  it  is  possible  to 
still  further  reduce  the  temperature^  but  probably  not  below  13 
degrees  absolute." 

The  attempt  has  been  made  without  success  to  liquefy  helium, 
this  still  very  mysterious  body,  which,  according  to  spectral 
analysis,  seems  to  exist  in  great  quantities  in  the  solar  atmos- 
phere. The  critical  point  pf  this  gas,  very  rare  in  our  atmos- 
phere, ought  to  be  in  the  neighborhood  of  ten  degrees  of  absolute 
zero.  This  explains  the  difficulty  we  find  in  liquefying  it,  each 
degree  towards  absolute  zero  being  very  hard  to  obtain  by  our 
methods  of  investigation. 

With  helium  liquefied,  Mr.  Travers  thinks  we  can  descend  a 
few  degrees  still,  to  five  degrees  absolute,  for  instance,  which 
will  perhaps  be  the  extreme  limit  of  experiment,  the  absence  of 
all  heat  seeming  rather  a  theoretical  conception  than  an  experi- 
mental one. 

We  know  now  that  all  bodies  without  exception  can  be  lique- 
fied and  volatilized  by  heat.  Hence,  all  can  be  liquefied  and 
solidified  by  subtraction  from  their  heat.  The  specific  heat  of 
metals,  their  electrical  resistance,  their  magnetic  property  even, 
are  modified  by  cold.  "  In  the  absence  of  immediate  interest," 
says  M.  Claude,  "the  theoretical  interest  of  these  facts  is  very 
great.  They  seem  to  verify,  in  fact,  a  bold  hypothesis  formu- 
lated by  Ampere  and  according  to  which  the  resistance  of  metals 
to  the  electric  current  would  appear  only  at  the  passage  of  inter- 
moleculary  spaces.  At  absolute  zero,  these  vacuums  no  longer 
existing  as  a  result  of  contraction,  the  electric  resistance  of  pure 
metals  ought  to  be  nothing.  This,  indeed,  is  what,  apart  from 
an  anomaly  of  a  very  disturbing  kind  in  the  temperature  of 
liquid  hydrogen,  experience  seems  to  confirm." 

Nickel  steel  becomes  magnetic  at  very  low  temperatures, 
while  the  magnetic  properties  of  iron  and  of  steel  are  slightly 
modified..  But  the  stability  of  magnetism  becomes  remarkable 
and  a  magnet  remains  permanent  when  it  has  been  sufficiently 
cooled  in  liquid  air. 

From  the  biological  point  of  view,  a  remarkable  fact  is  that 
life  very  readily  resists  the  absence  of  heat.  Thus,  microbes,  for 
which  the  unit  of  measurement  is  the  thousandth  part  of  a  milli- 
metre, and  which  succumb  at  the  temperature  of  boiling  water. 


ABSOLUTE  COLD  111 

can  withstand,  without  sensibly  losing  their  vitality,  not  only 
the  temperature  of  liquid  air,  that  is  to  say  — 190  degrees 
above  zero,  but  also  the  operation  of  trituration.  The  little 
cells  thus  treated  are  then  congealed  into  hard  and  friable 
masses.  Of  this  immunity,  M.  d'Arsonval  has  given  an  in- 
genious explanation  based  upon  the  enormity  of  the  osmotic 
pressure  in  microscopic  bacterian  cells.  "Under  these  enor- 
mous pressures  it  is  impossible  for  the  water  in  the  little  cells 
to  freeze  even  at  — 190  degrees,  and  the  cells  thus  escape  the 
disorganization  to  which  they  w^ould  otherwise  be  irremediably 
condemned." 

From  the  hygienic  point  of  view,  it  is  thus  a  grave  error,  still 
very  widespread,  to  believe  that  water  in  the  frozen  state  is  free 
from  micro-organisms.  The  fermentation  that  water  always 
retains  in  a  more  or  less  considerable  quantity,  once  the  ice  is 
melted,  resumes  all  its  vitality.  The  same  danger  is  present  in 
the  use  of  water  obtained  from  the  surfaces  of  rivers,  ponds  or 
public  fountains  for  the  manufacture  of  ice.  The  use  of  this 
ice  for  alimentary  purposes  is,  moreover,  forbidden  in  Paris  by 
police  regulations. 

Certain  bodies,  such  as  eggs  and  paraffin,  become  phosphores- 
cent in  liquid  air.  On  the  subjects  of  phosphorescence  and 
radiation.  Sir  William  Crookes  and  James  Dewar  have  under- 
taken a  series  of  methodical  studies  of  the  influence  of  very 
low  temperatures  upon  radium,  the  physical  and  chemical  prop- 
erties of  which  are  scarcely  beginning  to  be  known. 

It  seems  beyond  doubt  that  cold  must  play  a  considerable  part 
in  the  obscure  or  luminous  radiations  emitted  by  bodies  and  that 
very  great  progress  will  be  made  in  physical  astronomy  when  we 
fully  know  the  part  which  the  extra  low  temperatures  of  space 
may  play  in  the  luminous,  electrical  or  magnetic  emanations 
of  celestial  bodies. 


112  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


LIQUID  AIR. 

By  RAY  STANNARD  BAKER. 

LIQUID  air  is  a  clear,  sparkling  substance  resembling  water, 
but  it  is  so  cold  that  it  boils  on  ice  and  freezes  alcohol 
Sii\d  mercury.  Although  fluid,  it  is  not  wet  to  the  touch, 
but  a  drop  of  it  on  a  man's  hand  burns  like  a  white-hot  iron.  It 
may  be  dipped  up  and  poured  about  like  so  much  water,  but  if 
it  is  confined,  it  explodes  more  terribly  than  nitro-glycerine,  and 
when  left  standing  in  the  open  air  for  a  few  minutes  it  vanishes 
in  a  cold  gray  mist,  leaving  behind  only  a  bit  of  white  frost. 

Charles  E.  Tripler,  of  New  York  City,  has  invented  a  machine 
for  producing  this  most  marvelous  of  liquids  in  large  quantities, 
and  he  has  found, many  curious  and  wonderful  uses  to  which 
it  may  be  put.  He  predicts  that  it  may  sometimes  rival  elec- 
tricity in  the  variety  of  its  adaptations;  he  tells  how  it  will  be 
used  to  cool  hospitals  and  hotels,  cauterize  wounds,  drive  the 
machinery  of  submarine  boats,  flying  machines,  and  horseless 
carriages,  furnish  ammunition  for  military  purposes,  and  per- 
form many  other  mechanical  wonders. 

Until  twenty  years  ago  scientists  believed  that  air  was  a  per- 
manent gas  —  that  it  never  would  be  anything  but  a  gas.  They 
had  tried  compressing  it  under  thousands  of  pounds  of  pres- 
sure to  the  square  inch,  they  had  tried  heating  it  in  the  hottest 
furnaces,  and  cooling  it  to  the  greatest  known  depths  of  chemical 
cold,  but  it  remained  air  —  a  gas.  One  day  in  1878  Eaoul 
Pictet  submitted  oxygen,  of  which  air  is  largely  composed,  to 
enormous  pressure  combined  with  intense  cold.  The  result  was 
a  few  precious  drops  of  a  clear  bluish  liquid  that  bubbled  vio- 
lently for  a  few  seconds  and  then  passed  away  in  a  cold  white 
mist.  Pictet  had  proved  that  oxygen  was  not  really  a  per- 
manent gas,  but  merely  the  vapor  of  a  mineral,  as  steam  is  the 
vapor  of  ice.  Fifteen  years  later  Olzewski,  a  Pole  of  Warsaw, 
succeeded  in  liquefying  nitrogen,  the  other  constituent  of  air. 


I  ^ 


o  - 

!l 

O 

»^ 

t- 

O 

ft) 

o 


2    S 
2    a 


LIQUID  AIR  113 

About  the  same  time,  Professor  James  Dewar,  of  England,  ex- 
ploring independently  in  the  region  of  the  North  Pole  of  tem- 
perature, not  only  liquefied  oxygen  and  nitrogen,  but  produced 
liquid  air  in  some  quantity  and  then  actually  froze  it  into  mushy 
ice  —  air  ice.  The  first  ounce  which  he  made  cost  more  than 
$3,000.  A  little  later  he  reduced  the  cost  to  $500  a  pint,  and 
the  whole  scientific  world  rang  with  the  achievement. 

When  I  visited  Mr.  Tripler^s  laboratory  I  saw  five  gallons  of 
liquid  air  poured  out  like  so  much  water.  It  was  made  at  the 
rate  of  fifty  gallons  a  day,  and  it  cost,  perhaps,  twenty  cents  a 
gallon.  Not  long  ago  Mr.  Tripler  performed  some  of  his  ex- 
periments before  a  meeting  of  distinguished  scientists  at  the 
American  Museum  of  Natural  History.  It  so  happened  that 
among  those  present  was  M.  Pictet,  the  "  father  of  liquid 
air.^^  When  he  saw  the  prodigal  way  in  which  Mr.  Tripler 
poured  out  the  precious  liquid,  he  rose  solemnly  and  shook  Mr. 
Tripler^s  hand.  "  It  is  a  grand  exhibition,"  he  exclaimed  in 
French ;  "  the  grandest  exhibition  I  ever  have  seen." 

The  principle  involved  in  air  liquefaction  is  exceedingly 
simple,  although  its  application  has  sorely  puzzled  more  than 
one  wise  man.  When  air  is  compressed  it  gives  out  its  heat. 
Any  one  who  has  inflated  a  bicycle  tire  has  felt  the  pump  grow 
warm  under  his  hand.  When  the  pressure  is  removed  and  the 
gas  expands,  it  must  take  back  from  somewhere  the  heat  which 
it  gave  out.    That  is,  it  must  produce  cold. 

Professor  Dewar  applied  this  simple  principle  in  all  his  ex- 
periments. He  compressed  nitrous  oxide  gas  and  ethylene  gas, 
and  by  expanding  them  suddenly  in  a  specially  constructed 
apparatus  he  produced  a  degree  of  cold  which  liquefied  air  almost 
instantly. 

But  nitrous  oxide  and  ethylene  are  exceedingly  expensive  and 
dangerous,  so  that  the  product  which  Professor  Dewar  drew  off 
was  worth  more  than  its  weight  in  gold. 

At  the  earliest  announcement  of  the  liquefaction  of  air  Mr. 
Tripler  had  seen,  with  the  quick  imagination  of  the  inventor, 
its  tremendous  possibilities  as"  a  power-generator,  and  he  began 
his  experiments  immediately.  After  futile  attempts  to  utilize 
various  gases  for  the  production  of  the  necessary  cold,  it  sud- 
denly occurred  to  Mr.  Tripler  that  air  also  was  a  gas.  Why 
not  use  it  for  producing  cold  ? 


114  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

"  The  idea  was  so  foolishly  simple  that  I  could  hardly  bring 
myself  to  try  it/'  he  told  me,  "  but  I  finally  fitted  up  an  appara- 
tus, turned  on  my  air  and  drew  it  out  a  liquid/^ 

Mr.  Tripler's  work-room  has  more  the  appearance  of  a  ma- 
chine shop  than  a  laboratory.  It  is  big  and  airy,  and  filled  with 
the  busy  litter  of  the  inventor.  The  huge  steam  boiler  and  com- 
pressor engine  in  one  end  of  the  room  strike  one  at  first  as  oddly 
disproportionate  in  size  to  the  other  machinery.  Apparently 
there  is  nothing  for  all  this  power  —  it  is  a  seventy-five  horse- 
power plant  —  to  work  upon;  it  is  hard  to  realize  that  the  en- 
gine is  drawing  its  raw  material  from  the  very  room  in  which 
we  are  walking  and  breathing.  Indeed,  the  apparatus  where 
the  air  is  actually  liquefied  is  nothing  but  a  felt  and  canvas- 
covered  tube  about  as  large  around  as  a  small  barrel  and  per- 
haps fifteen  feet  high.  The  lower  end  is  set  the  height  of  a 
man's  shoulders  above  the  fioor,  and  there  is  a  little  spout  be- 
low, from  which,  upon  opening  a  frosty  valve,  the  liquid  air  may 
be  seen  bursting  out  through  a  cloud  of  icy  mist.  I  asked  the 
old  engineer  who  has  been  with  Mr.  Tripler  for  years,  what  was 
inside  this  mysterious  swathed  tube. 

"  It's  full  of  pipes,"  he  said. 

I  asked  Mr.  Tripler  the  same  question. 

"  Pipes,"  was  his  answer — "  pipes  and  coils  with  especially 
constructed  valves  —  that's  all  there  is  to  it." 

So  I  investigated  the  pipes.  Two  sets  led  back  to  the  com- 
pressor engine,  and  Mr.  Tripler  explained  that  they  both  carried 
air  under  a  pressure  of  about  2,500  pounds  to  the  square  inch. 
The  heat  caused  by  the  compression  had  been  removed  by  pass- 
ing the  pipes  through  coolers  filled  with  running  water,  so  that 
the  air  entered  the  liquefier  at  a  temperature  of  about  fifty 
degrees  Fahrenheit. 

"  One  of  these  pipes  contains  the  air  to  be  liquefied,"  ex- 
plained Mr.  Tripler ;  '^  the  other  carries  the  air  which  is  to  do 
the  liquefying.  By  turning  this  valve  at  the  bottom  of  the  appa- 
ratus, I  allow  the  air  to  escape  through  a  small  hole  in  the 
second  pipe.  It  rushes  out  over  the  first  pipe,  expanding 
rapidly,  and  taking  up  heat.  This  process  continues  until  such 
a  degree  of  cold  prevails  in  the  first  pipe  that  the  air  is  liquefied 
and  drips  down  into  a  small  receptable  at  the  bottom.    Then  all 


LIQUID  AIR  115 

I  have  to  do  is  to  turn  a  valve  and  the  liquid  air  pours  out,  ready 
for  use/' 

Mr.  Tripler  says  that  it  takes  only  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes 
to  get  liquid  air  after  the  compressor  engine  begins  to  run. 
Professor  Dewar  always  lost  ninety  per  cent,  in  drawing  off  his 
product;  Mr.  Tripler^s  loss  is  inappreciable. 

Sometimes  the  cold  in  the  liquefier  becomes  so  intense  that  the 
liquid  air  actually  freezes  hard,  stopping  the  pipes.  Wonderful 
as  it  is  to  see  ice  that  is  made  of  air,  it  is  not  so  wonderful 
as  Mr.  Tripler's  story  of  the  significance  of  this  phenomenon. 
He  tells  how  at  some  remote  age  in  the  future,  all  of  the  atmos- 
phere which  we  now  breathe  vnll  fall  in  drops  of  liquid,  just  such 
as  he  produces  in  his  laboratory,  and  great  lakes  and  oceans  of 
air  will  form  on  the  earth,  much  resembling  the  present  lakes 
and  oceans  of  water. 

"  When  the  earth  grows  so  cold  that  the  air  is  liquefied,^^  said 
Mr.  Tripler,  "  of  course  all  the  water  on  the  earth  will  long  ago 
have  been  frozen  solid.  Indeed,  it  will  be  as  hard  as  rock  crys- 
tal, and  not  unlike  that  substance  in  color  and  texture.  After 
the  air  is  all  in  the  form  of  lakes  or  oceans,  the  cold  will  con- 
tinue to  increase  until  they  in  turn  are  frozen  hard.  After  that 
the  hydrogen,  helium,  and  possibly  some  other  very  light  gases, 
of  which  we  may  now  have  little  knowledge,  will  fall  in  the  form 
of  rain,  and  then  the  world  will  be  absolutely  dead  and  inert, 
frozen  as  hard  as  the  moon." 

This  entire  process  of  the  universe  is  typified  in  Mr.  Tripler^s 
laboratory,  where  every  degree  of  temperature,  from  the  heat 
of  a  steam  boiler  nearly  down  to  the  cold  of  interstellar  space, 
can  be  produced  at  any  time. 

"  When  you  come  to  think  of  it,"  says  Mr.  Tripler,  "  we're  a 
good  deal  nearer  the  cold  end  of  the  thermometer  than  we  are 
to  the  hot  end.  I  suppose  that  once  the  earth  had  a  temperature 
equal  to  that  of  the  sun,  say,  10,000  degrees  Fahrenheit.  It  has 
fallen  to  an  average  of  about  sixty  degrees  in  this  latitude ;  that 
is,  it  has  lost  9,940  degrees.  We  don't  yet  know  just  how  cold 
the  absolute  cold  really  is  —  the  final  cold,  the  cold  of  interstel- 
lar space  —  but  Professor  Dewar  thinks,  it  is  about  461  degrees 
below  zero,  Fahrenheit.  If  it  is,  we  have  only  a  matter  of 
521  degrees  yet  to  lose,  which  is  small  compared  with  9,940. 
Still,  I  don't  think  we  have  any  cause  to  worry;  it  may  take 


116  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

a   few   billion   years   for   the   world   to   reach   absolute   cold." 

Mr.  Tripler  handles  his  liquid  air  with  a  freedom  that  is  awe- 
inspiring.  He  uses  a  battered  saucepan  in  which  to  draw  it  out 
of  the  liqueiier,  and  he  keeps  it  in  a  double  iron  can,  not  unlike 
an  ice-cream  freezer,  covering  the  top  with  a  wad  of  coarse  felt 
to  keep  out  as  much  heat  as  possible. 

"  You  can  handle  liquid  air  with  perfect  safety/'  he  said ; 
"  you  can  do  almost  anything  with  it  that  you  can  do  with  water, 
except  to  shut  it  up  tight.'' 

This  is  not  at  all  surprising  when  one  remembers  that  a 
single  cubic  foot  of  liquid  air.  contains  748  cubic  feet  of  air  at 
ordinary  pressure  —  a  whole  hall-bedroom  full,  reduced  to  the 
space  of  a  large  pail.  Its  desire  to  expand,  therefore,  is  some- 
thing quite  irrepressible.  But  so  long  as  it  is  left  open  it  sim- 
mers contentedly  for  hours,  finally  disappearing  whence  it  came. 
There  being  no  way  to  confine  liquid  air  in  any  considerable 
quantity,  its  transportation  for  long  distances  is  therefore  an  un- 
solved problem,  although  Mr.  Tripler  has  sent  large  cans  of  it 
to  Boston,  Washingion  and  Philadelphia. 

"It  is  my  belief,''  comments  Mr.  Tripler,  "that  there  will  be 
little  need  of  transporting  it ;  it  can  be  made  quickly  and  cheap- 
ly an3rwhere  on  earth." 

Liquid  air  has  many  curious  properties.  It  is  nearly  as 
heavy  as  water  and  quite  as  clear  and  limpid,  although  when 
seen  in  the  open  air  it  is  always  muffled  in  the  dense  white  mist 
of  evaporation  which  wells  up  over  the  edge  of  the  receptacle 
in  which  it  stands  and  rolls  out  along  the  floor  in  beautiful  bil- 
lowy clouds.  No  other  substance  in  the  world,  unless  it  be 
liquid  hydrogen,  is  as  cold  as  liquid  air,  and  yet  Mr.  Tripler 
dips  his  hand  fearlessly  into  a  pail  of  liquid  air,  but  he  is  care- 
ful to  withdraw  it  instantly.  The  reason  that  it  does  not  freeze 
him  at  once  is  the  same  that  enables  the  workman  to  dip  his 
hand  into  molten  lead,  the  moisture  of  the  human  flesh  forming 
a  little  cushion  of  vapor  which  keeps  away  for  a  second  the  ef- 
fect of  the  cold  or  the  heat.  A  few  drops  held  in  my  hand  for 
an  instant  felt  exactly  like  a  red-hot  coal.  It  does  not  really 
burn,  of  course,  but  it  kills,  leaving  a  little  red  blister  not  unlike 
a  burn.  For  this  reason,  one  of  its  prospective  uses  will  be  for  the 
purpose  of  cauterization  in  surgical  cases.  It  is  not  only  a  good 
deal   cheaper  than   the   ordinary   caustics,   but   is   much  more 


AN  ICICLE  OF  FROZEN  ALCOHOL. 


LIQUID  AIR  BOILING  ON  A  BLOCK  OF  ICE. 

Compared  with  liquid  air,  the  temperature  of  ivhich  is  312° 
beloiv  zero,  ice  at  32°  F.  is  as  hot  as  a  furnace,  and  it  pro- 
duces the  same  effect  on  liquid  air  that  a  hot  fire  woidd  on 
water.  The  teapot  is  covered  ivith  white  frost:  moisture 
congealed  from  the  atmosphere. 


LIQUID  AIR  117 

efficient,  and  its  action  can  be  absolutely  controlled.  Indeed,  a 
well-known  surgeon  performed  a  difficult  operation  on  a  cancer 
case  with  liquid  air  furnished  by  Mr.  Tripler,  and  reported  the 
case  to  be  absolutely  cured. 

It  is  a  curious  thing  to  see  liquid  air  placed  in  a  teapot  boil- 
ing vigorously  on  a  block  of  ice,  but  it  must  be  remembered 
that  ice  is  nearly  as  much  warmer  than  liquid  air  as  a  stove  is 
warmer  than  water,  so  that  it  makes  liquid  air  boil  just  as  the 
stove  makes  water  boil.  If  this  same  teapot  is  placed  over  a 
gas  flame,  a  thick  coating  of  ice  will  at  once  collect  on  the  bot- 
tom between  the  kettle  and  the  blaze,  and  no  amount  of  heat 
seems  enough  to  melt  it. 

Alcohol  freezes  at  so  low  a  temperature  —  202  degrees  below 
zero  —  that  it  has  been  used  in  thermometers  to  register  all  de- 
grees of  cold.  But  it  will  not  measure  the  fearful  cold  of  liquid 
air.  I  saw  a  cup  of  liquid  air  poured  into  a  tumbler  partly  filled 
with  alcohol.  Mr.  Tripler  stirred  the  mixture  with  a  glass  rod. 
It  boiled  violently  for  a  few  minutes  and  then  the  alcohol 
thickened  up  slowly  until  it  looked  like  maple  syrup;  then  it 
froze  solid,  and  Mr.  Tripler  held  it  up  in  a  long  steaming  icicle. 
Mercury  is  frozen  in  liquid  air  .until  it  is  as  hard  as  granite. 
Mr.  Tripler  made  a  little  pasteboard  box  the  shape  of  a  hammer- 
head, filled  it  with  mercury,  suspended  a  rod  in  it  for  a  handle, 
and  then  placed  it  in  a  pan  of  liquid  air.  In  a  few  minutes 
the  mercury  was  frozen  so  solid  that  it  could  be  used  for  driving 
nails  into  a  hard-wood  block.  What  would  the  scientists  of 
twenty-five  years  ago  have  said  if  any  one  had  predicted  the 
use  of  a  mercury  hammer  for  driving  nails? 

Liquid  air  freezes  other  metals  just  as  thoroughly  as  it 
freezes  mercury.  Iron  and  steel  become  as  brittle  as  glass.  A 
tin  cup  which  has  been  filled  with  liquid  air  for  a  few  minutes 
will,  if  dropped,  shatter  into  a  hundred  little  fragments  like 
thin  glass.  Copper,  gold,  and  all  precious  metals,  on  the  other 
hand,  are  made  more  pliable,  so  that  even  a  thick  piece  can  be 
bent  readily  between  the  fingers. 

Not  long  ago  Mr.  Tripler  took  a  can  of  liquid  air  to  the 
Harlem  River,  and  poured  it  out  on  the  water  in  order  to  see 
its  effect.  Small  masses  of  it  at  once  collected  in  little  round 
balls  on  the  surface  of  the  river,  and  being  so  much  colder  than 
the  water,  they  froze  small  cups  or  boats  of  ice,  in  which  they 


118  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

began  floating  about  swiftly,  bumping  up  against  one  another 
like  so  many  lively  water  bugs,  finally  boiling  away  and  dis- 
appearing, leaving  the  miniature  ice  boats  quite  still.  If  a  small 
quantity  of  liquid  air  is  placed  in  a  tall  jar  of  water,  part  of  the 
liquid  nitrogen,  which  is  lighter  than  water,  will  evaporate  first, 
then  the  liquid  oxygen,  which  is  slightly  heavier  than  the  water, 
will  sink  in  beautiful  silvery  bubbles. 

I  saw  an  egg  frozen  in  liquid  air.  It  came  out  so  hard  that 
it  took  a  sharp  blow  of  the  hammer  to  crack  it,  and  the  inside 
of  it  had  the  peculiar  crystalline  appearance  of  quartz  —  a  kind 
of  mineral  egg.  At  one  time  in  Boston,  Mr.  Tripler  had  some 
of  his  liquid  air  with  him  at  a  hotel,  where  he  was  explain- 
ing its  wonders  to  a  party  of  friends.  The  waiter  served  a  fine 
beefsteak  for  dinner,  and  Mr.  Tripler  promptly  dipped  it  into 
the  liquid  air  and  then  returned  it  with  some  show  of  indigna- 
tion to  the  chef.  It  was  as  hard  as  rock  crystal  and  when 
dropped  on  the  floor  it  shivered  into  a  thousand  pieces. 

"  The  time  is  certainly  coming,"  sa3^s  Mr.  Tripler,  '^  when 
every  great  packing  house,  every  market,  every  hospital,  every 
hotel,  and  many  private  houses  will  have  plants  for  making 
liquid  air.  The  machinery  is  not  expensive,  it  can  be  set  up  in  a 
tenth  part  of  the  space  occupied  by  an  ammonia  ice  machine, 
and  its  product  can  be  easily  handled  and  placed  where  it  is  most 
needed.  Ten  years  from  now  hotel  guests  will  call  for  cool 
rooms  in  summer  with  as  much  certainty  of  getting  them  as 
they  now  call  for  warm  rooms  in  winter. 

"  And  think  of  what  unspeakable  value  the  liquid  air  will  be 
in  hospitals.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  absolutely  pure  air;  in  the 
second  place  the  proportion  of  oxygen  is  very  large,  so  that  it  is 
vitalizing  air.  Why,  it  will  not  be  necessary  for  the  tired-out 
man  of  the  future  to  make  his  usual  summer  trip  to  the  moun- 
tains. He  can  have  his  ozone  and  his  cool  heights  served  to  him 
in  his  room.  Cold  is  always  a  disinfectant;  some  disease  germs, 
like  yellow  fever,  it  kills  outright.  Think  of  the  value  of  a 
^  cold  ward '  in  a  hospital,  where  the  air  could  be  kept  absolutely 
fresh,  and  where  nurses  and  friends  could  visit  the  patient  with- 
out fear  of  infection !  " 

The  property  of  liquid  oxygen  to  promote  rapid  combustion 
will  make  it  invaluable,  Mr.  Tripler  thinks,  for  use  as  an  explo- 
sive.   A  bit  of  oily  waste,  soaked  in  liquid  air,  was  placed  inside 


HANGING  FROM  A  BLOCK  OP  FROZEN 

MERCURY. 

The  mercury  is  iwured  into  a  paper  mould  having  a 

screw-eye  inserted  in  each  end.      The  mould  is  then 

placed  in  a  basin  of  liquid  air,  where  the  mercury  is 

quickly  frozen  solid.    Suspended  in  the  manner  shown, 

the  mercury  block  will  support  several  hundred  pounds 

or  half  an  hour. 


LIQUID  AIR  119 

of  a  small  iron  tube,  open  at  both  ends.  This  was  laid  inside  of 
a  larger  and  stronger  pipe,  also  open  at  both  ends.  When  the 
waste  was  ignited  by  a  fuse,  the  explosion  was  so  terrific  that  it 
not  only  blew  the  smaller  tube  to  pieces,  but  it  burst  a  great  hole 
in  the  outer  tube.  Mr.  Tripler  thinks  that  by  the  proper  mix- 
ture of  liquid  air  with  cotton,  wool,  glycerine,  Qr  any  other 
hydrocarbon,  an  explosive  of  enormous  power  could  be  produced. 
And  unlike  dynamite  or  nitro-giycerine,  it  could  be  handled  like 
so  much  sand,  there  being  not  the  slightest  danger  of  explosion 
from  concussion,  although,  of  course,  it  would  have  to  be  kept 
away  from  fire.  It  will  take  many  careful  experiments  to  ascer- 
tain the  best  method  for  making  this  new  explosive,  but  think 
of  the  reward  for  its  successful  application!  The  expense  of 
heavy  ammunition  and  its  difficult  transportation  and  storage 
would  be  entirely  done  away  with.  No  more  would  warships 
be  Toaded  down  with  cumbersome  explosives,  and  no  more  could 
there  be  terrible  powder  explosions  on  shipboard,  because  the 
ammunition  could  be  made  for  the  guns  as  it  was  needed,  a 
plant  on  shipboard  furnishing  the  necessary,  liquid  air. 

Liquid  air,  owing  to  the  large  amount  of  oxygen  which  it  eon- 
tains,  will  make  steel  burn  violently.  Mr.  Tripler  places  a  little 
of  it  in  a  tumbler  made  of  ice,  and  then  thrusts  into  it  a  steel 
spring  having  at  the  end  a  lighted  match.  The  moment  the 
steel  strikes  the  liquid  air  it  burns  like  a  splinter  of  fat  pine. 
This  experiment  shows  a  most  astonishing  range  of  tempera- 
ture. Here  is  steel  burning  at  3,500  degrees  above  zero  in  an 
ice  receptacle  containing  liquid  air  at  312  degrees  below  zero. 

But  all  other  uses  of  liquid  air  fade  into  insignificance  when 
compared  with  the  possibility  of  its  utilization  as  power  for  run- 
ning machiner}^,  which  is  Mr.  Tripler's  chief  object.  I  saw 
Mr.  Tripler  admit  a  quart  or  more  of  the  liquid  air  into  a  small 
engine.  A  few  seconds  later  the  piston  began  to  pump  vigor- 
ously, driving  the  fly-wheel  as  if  under  a  heavy  head  of  steam. 
The  liquid  air  had  not  been  forced  into  the  engine  under  pres- 
sure, and  there  was  no  perceptible  heat  under  the  boiler ;  indeed, 
the  tube  which  passed  for  a  boiler  was  soon  shaggy  with  white 
frost.  Yet  the  little  engine  stood  there  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  running  apparently  without  motive  power,  making  no 
noise  and  giving  out  no  heat  and  no  smoke,  and  producing  no 


120  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

ashes.  And  that  is  something  that  can  be  seen  nowhere  else  in 
the  world. 

"  If  I  can  make  little  engines  rnn  by  this  power^  why  not 
big  ones  ?  "  asks  Mr.  Tripler. 

''  And  run  them  entirely  with  air  ?  '' 

^'  Yes,  with  liquid  air  in  place  of  the  water  now  used  in 
steam  boilers,  and  the  ordinary  heat  of  the  air  instead  of  the  coal 
under  the  boilers.  Air  is  the  cheapest  material  in  the  world, 
but  we  have  only  b(igun  learning  how  to  use  it.  We  know  a  lit- 
tle about  compressed  and  liquid  air,  but  almost  nothing  about 
utilizing  the  heat  of  the  air.  Coal  is  only  the  sun's  energy 
stored  up.    What  I  do  is  to  use  the  sun's  energy  direct. 

"It  is  really  one  of  the  simplest  things  in  the  world,"  Mr. 
Tripler  continued,  "when  you  understand  it.  In  the  case  of  a 
steam-engine  you  have  water  and  coal.  You  must  take  heat 
enough  out  of  the  coal,  and  put  it  into  the  water  to  change  the 
water  into  a  gas  —  that  is,  steam.  The  expansion  of  this  gas 
produces  power.  And  the  water  will  not  give  off  any  steam  until 
it  has  reached  the  boiling  point  of  212  degrees  Fahrenheit. 

"  Now  steam  bears  the  same  relation  to  water  that  air  does 
to  liquid  air.  Air  is  a  liquid  at  312  degrees  below  zero  —  a  de- 
gree of  cold  that  we  can  hardly  imagine.  If  you  raise  it  above 
312  degrees  below  zero,  it  boils,  just  as  water  boils  above  212  de- 
grees. Now,  then,  we  live  at  a  temperature  averaging,  say,  seven- 
ty degrees  above  zero  —  about  the  present  temperature  of  this 
room.  In  other  words,  we  are  382  degrees  warmer  than  liquid 
air.  Therefore,  compared  with  the  cold  of  liquid  air  we  are  living 
in  a  furnace.  A  race  of  people  who  could  live  at  312  degrees  be- 
low zero  would  shrivel  up  as  quickly  in  this  room  as  we  would  if 
we  were  shut  up  in  a  baking  oven.  Now  then,  you  have  liquid  air 
—  a  liquid  at  312  degrees  below  zero.  You  expose  it -to  the  heat 
of  this  furnace  in  which  we  live,  and  it  boils  instantly  and  throws 
off  a  vapor  which  expands  and  produces  power.  That's  simple, 
isn't  it?" 

It  did  seem  simple;  and  you  remember  with  admiration  that 
Mr.  Tripler  is  the  first  man  who  ever  ran  an  engine  with  liquid 
air,  as  he  was  also  the  first  to  invent  a  machine  for  making 
liquid  air  in  quantities,  a  machine  which  has  since  been  patented. 

In  some  respects  liquid  air  possesses  a  vast  supremacy  over 
steam.    In  the  first  place,  it  has  about  one  hundred  times  the 


LIQUID  AIR  121 

expansive  power  of  steam.  In  the  second  place,  it  begins  to 
produce  power  the  instant  it  is  exposed  to  the  atmosphere.  In 
making  steam,  water  has  first  to  be  raised  to  a  temperature  of 
213  degrees  Fahrenheit.  That  is,  if  the  water  as  it  enters  the 
boiler  has  a  temperature  of  50  degrees,  162  degrees  of  heat 
must  be  put  into  it  before  it  will  yield  a  single  pound  of 
pressure.  After  that,  every  additional  degree  of  heat  produces 
one  pound  of  pressure;  whereas  every  degree  of  heat  applied  to 
liquid  air  gives  about  twenty  pounds  of  pressure. 

"  Liquid  air  can  be  applied  to  any  engine,''  says  Mr.  Tripler, 
"  and  used  as  easily  and  as  safely  as  steam.  You  need  no  large 
boiler,  no  water,  no  coal,  and  you  have  no  waste.  The  heat 
of  the  atmosphere,  as  I  have  said  before,  does  all  the  work  of 
expansion.'^ 

The  advantages  of  compactness,  and  the  ease  with  which 
liquid  air  can  be  made  to  produce  power  by  the  heat  of  the  at- 
mosphere, at  once  suggested  its  use  in  all  kinds  of  motor 
vehicles,  and  a  firm  in  Philadelphia  is  now  making  extensive 
experiments  looking  to  its  use.  A  satisfactory  application  may  do 
away  with  the  present  huge,  misshapen,  machinery-laden  auto- 
mobiles, and  make  possible  small,  light,  and  inexpensive  motors. 

Mr.  Tripler  even  predicts  that  by  the  agency  of  liquid  air, 
practical  aerial  navigation  can  be  assured.  The  problem  which 
has  hitherto  defeated  the  purposes  of  aerial  navigators  has  been 
the  difficulty  of  producing  a  propelling  machine  sufficiently 
light  and  yet  strong  enough  to  keep  the  propeller  in  motion. 
Liquid  air  requires  no  boilers,  no  fuel,  no  smokestacks,  and  the 
m.achinery  necessary  to  its  use  will  be  a  mere  feather's  weight 
compared  with  the  ordinary  steam-engine. 

Much  has  yet  to  be  done  before  liquid  air  becomes  the  revolu- 
tionizing power  of  which  Mr.  Tripler  has  prophesied.  It  has 
many  disadvantages  as  well  as  advantages,  and  it  will  undoubt- 
edly take  Mr.  Tripler  and  other  inventors  many  years  to  per- 
fect the  machines  necessary  for  using  it  practically.  It  will 
probably  be  chiefly  valuable  in  cases  where  a  source  of  power 
must  be  produced  at  one  place  and  used  at  another.  This 
much,  however,  has  been  positively  accomplished:  A  machine 
has  been  built  which  will  make  liquid  air  in  large  quantities  at 
small  expense,  and  an  engine  has  been  successfully  run  by  liquid 
air.     Other  developments  will  undoubtedly  come  later. 


122  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


THE  HOTTEST  HEAT. 

By  RAY  STANNARD  BAKER. 

NO  feats  of  discovery,  not  even  the  search  for  the  North 
Pole  or  Stanley^s  expeditions  in  the  heart  of  Africa, 
present  more  points  of  fascinating  interest  than  the 
attempts  now  being  made  by  scientists  to  explore  the  extreme 
limits  of  temperature.  We  live  in  a  very  narrow  zone  in  what 
may  be  called  the  great  world  of  heat.  The  cut  on  the  opposite 
page  represents  an  imaginary  thermometer  showing  a  few  of 
the  important  temperature  points  between  the  depths  of  the 
coldest  cold  and  the  heights  of  the  hottest  heat  —  a  stretch  of 
some  10,461  degrees.^  We  exist  in  a  narrow  space,  as  you  will 
see,  varying  from  100°  or  a  little  more  above  the  zero  point  to  a 
possible  50°  below;  that  is,  we  can  withstand  these  narrow  ex- 
tremes of  temperature.  If  some  terrible  world  catastrophe 
should  raise  the  temperature  of  our  summers  or  lower  that  of 
our  winters  by  a  very  few  degrees,  human  life  would  perish  off 
the  earth. 

But  though  we  live  in  such  narrow  limits,  science  has  found 
waj^s  of  exploring  the  great  heights  of  heat  above  us  and  of 
reaching  and  measuring  the  depths  of  cold  below  us,  with  the 
result  of  making  many  important  and  interesting  discoveries. 

I  have  written  in  a  former  chapter  of  that  wonderful  product 
of  science,  liquid  air  —  air  submitted  to  such  a  degree  of  cold 
that  it  ceases  to  be  a  gas  and  becomes  a  liquid.  This  change 
occurs  at  a  temperature  312°  below  zero.  Professor  John  De- 
war,  of  England,  who  has  made  some  of  the  most  interesting 
of  discoveries  in  the  region  of  great  cold,  not  only  reached  a 
temperature  low  enough  to  produce  liquid  air,  but  he  succeeded 
in  going  on  down  until  he  could  freeze  this  marvelous  liquid  into 
a  solid  —  a  sort  of  air  ice.  Not  content  even  with  this  aston- 
ishing degree  of  cold.  Professor  Dewar  continued  his  experi- 
ments until  he  could  reduce  hydrogen  —  that  very  light  gas  — 


THE  HOTTEST  HEAT 


123 


DEGREES 
10000  — 


7000— 


3500- 


OECREES 

-Conjeccural   heat       O  — 
of  the  sun. 


40— 


-Hiffhesr  heat  yet 
obtained  arti- 
ficially. 


262  — 


—Steel  boils. 


300 

312 

320 


—Water  boils.   . 
—Zero. 

-Prof.  Dewar's  ab- 
solute zero. 


440 
461 


—Zero. 


—Mercury  freezes. 


-Alcohol 


-Oxygen  boils 
-Liquid  air  boils. 
-Nitrogen  boils. 


-Hydrogen  bolls. 

Prof.  Dewar's  ab- 
"solute  zero. 


124  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

to  a  liquid  at  440°  below  zero,  and  then,  strange  as  it  may 
seem,  he  also  froze  liquid  hydrogen  into  a  solid.  From  his 
experiments  he  finally  concluded  that  the  ''  absolute  zero "  — 
that  is,  the  place  where  there  is  no  heat  —  was  at  a  point  461'' 
below  zero.  And  he  has  been  able  to  produce  a  temperature,  ar- 
tificially, within  a  very  few  degrees  of  this  utmost  limit  of  cold. 

Think  what  this  absolute  zero  means.  Heat,  we  know,  like 
electricity  and  light,  is  a  vibratory  or  wave  motion  in  the 
ether.  The  greater  the  heat,  the  faster  the  vibrations.  We 
think  of  all  the  substances  around  us  as  solids,  liquids,  and 
gases,  but  these  are  only  comparative  terms.  A  change  of  tem- 
perature changes  the  solid  into  the  liquid,  or  the  gas  into  the 
solid.  Take  water,  for  instance.  In  the  ordinary  temperature 
of  summer  it  is  a  liquid,  in  winter  it  is  a  hard  crystalline 
substance  called  ice;  apply  the  heat  of  a  stove  and  it  becomes 
steam,  a  gas.  So  with  all  other  substances.  Air  to  us  is  an 
invisible  gas,  but  if  the  earth  should  suddenly  drop  in  tem- 
perature to  312°  below  zero  all  the  air  would  fall  in  liquid 
drops  like  rain  and  fill  the  valleys  of  the  earth  with  lakes  and 
oceans.  Still  a  little  colder  and  these  lakes  and  oceans  would 
freeze  into  solids.  Similarly,  steel  seems  to  us  a  very  hard 
and  solid  substance,  but  apply  enough  heat  and  it  boils  like 
water,  and  finally,  if  the  heat  be  increased,  it  becomes  a  gas. 

Imagine,  if  you  can,  a  condition  in  which  all  substances 
are  solids;  where  the  vibrations  known  as  heat  have  been  stilled 
to  silence;  where  nothing  lives  or  moves;  where,  indeed,  there 
is  an  awful  nothingness;  and  you  can  form  an  idea  of  the 
region  of  the  coldest  cold  —  in  other  words,  the  region  where 
heat  does  not  exist.  Our  frozen  moon  gives  something  of  an 
idea  of  this  condition,  though  probably,  cold  and  barren  as  it  is, 
the  moon  is  still  a  good  many  degrees  in  temperature  above  the 
absolute  zero. 

Some  of  the  methods  of  exploring  these  depths  of  cold  are 
treated  in  the  chapter  on  liquid  air  already  referred  to.  Our 
interest  here  centers  in  the  other  extreme  of  temperature,  where 
the  heat  vibrations  are  inconceivably  rapid;  where  nearly  all 
substances  known  to  man  become  liquids  and  gases;  where,  in 
short,  if  the  experimenter  could  go  high  enough,  he  could  reach 
the  awful  degree  of  heat  of  the  burning  sun  itself,  estimated  at 
over  10,000  degrees.     It  is  in  the  work  of  exploring  these  re- 


THE  HOTTEST  HEAT  125 

gions  of  great  heat  that  such  men  as  Moissan,  Siemens,  Faure, 
and  others  have  made  such  remarkable  discoveries,  reaching 
temperatures  as  high  as  7,000,  or  over  twice  the  heat  of  boiling 
steel.  Their  accomplishments  seem  the  more  wonderful  when 
we  consider  that  a  temperature  of  this  degree  burns  up  or 
vaporizes  every  known  substance.  How,  then,  could  these  men 
have  made  a  furnace  in  which  to  produce  this  heat?  Iron  in 
such  a  heat  would  burn  like  paper,  and  so  would  brick  and 
mortar.  It  seems  inconceivable  that  even  science  should  be 
able  to  produce  a  degree  of  heat  capable  of  consuming  the  tools 
and  everything  else  with  which  it  is  produced. 

The  heat  vibrations  at  7,000°  are  so  intense  that  nickel  and 
platinum,  the  most  refractory,  the  most  unmeltable  of  metals, 
burn  like  so  much  bee's-wax;  the  best  fire-brick  used  in  lining 
furnaces  is  consumed  by  it  like  lumps  of  rosin,  leaving  no  trace 
behind.  It  works,  in  short,  the  most  marvelous,  the  most 
incredible  transformations  in  the  substances  of  the  earth. 

Indeed,  we  have  to  remember  that  the  earth  itself  was  cre- 
ated in  a  condition  of  great  heat  —  first  a  swirling,  burning  gas, 
something  like  the  sun  of  to-day,  gradually  cooling,  contracting, 
rounding,  until  we  have  our  beautiful  world,  with  its  perfect 
balance  of  gases,  liquids,  solids,  its  splendid  life.  A  dying 
volcano  here  and  there  gives  faint  evidence  of  the  heat  which 
once  prevailed  over  all  the  earth. 

It  was  in  the  time  of  great  heat  that  the  most  beautiful  and 
wonderful  things  in  the  world  were  wrought.  It  was  fierce  heat 
that  made  the  diamond,  the  sapphire,  and  the  ruby;  it  fash- 
ioned all  of  the  most  beautiful  forms  of  crystals  and  spars;  and 
it  ran  the  gold  and  silver  of  the  earth  in  veins,  and  tossed  up 
mountains,  and  made  hollows  for  the  seas.  It  is,  in  short,  the 
temperature  at  which  worlds  were  born. 

More  wonderful,  if  possible,  than  the  miracles  wrought  by 
such  heat  is  the  fact  that  men  can  now  produce  it  artificially; 
and  not  only  produce,  but  confine  and  direct  it,  and  make  it 
do  their  daily  service.  One  asks  himself,  indeed,  if  this  can 
really  be;  and  it  was  under  the  impulse  of  some  such  incre- 
dulity that  I  lately  made  a  visit  to  Niagara  Falls,  where  the 
hottest  furnaces  in  the  world  are  operated.  Here  clay  is  melted 
in  vast  quantities  to  form  aluminium,  a  metal  as  precious  a  few 
years  ago  as  gold.     Here  lime  and  carbon,  the  most  infusible 


126  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

of  all  the  elements,  are  joined  by  intense  heat  in  the  curious 
new  compound,  calcium  carbide,  a  bit  of  which  dropped  in 
water  decomposes  almost  explosively,  producing  a  new  illu- 
minating gas,  acetylene.  Here,  also,  pure  phosphorus  and  the 
phosphates  are  made  in  large  quantities;  and  here  is  made  car- 
borundum —  gem-crystals  as  hard  as  the  diamond  and  as  beauti- 
ful as  the  ruby. 

An  extensive  plant  has  also  been  built  to  produce  the  heat 
necessary  to  make  graphite  such  as  is  used  in  your  lead-pencils, 
and  for  lubricants,  stove-blacking,  and  so  on.  Graphite  has 
been  mined  from  the  earth  for  thousands  of  years;  it  is  pure 
carbon,  first  cousin  to  the  diamond.  Ten  years  ago  the  pos- 
sibility of  its  manufacture  would  have  been  scouted  as  ridicu- 
lous; and  yet  in  these  wonderful  furnaces,  which  repeat  so 
nearly  the  processes  of  creation,  graphite  is  as  easily  made  as 
soap.  The  marvel-workers  at  Niagara  Falls  have  not  yet  been 
able  to  make  diamonds  —  in  quantities.  The  distinguished 
French  chemist  Moissan  has  produced  them  in  his  laboratory 
furnaces  —  small  ones,  it  is  true,  but  diamonds;  and  one  day 
they  may  be  shipped  in  peck  boxes  from  the  great  furnaces 
at  Niagara  Falls.  This  is  no  mere  dream;  the  commercial 
manufacture  of  diamonds  has  already  had  the  serious  con- 
sideration of  level-headed,  far-seeing  business  men,  and  it  may 
be  accounted  a  distinct  probability.  What  revolution  the 
achievement  of  it  would  work  in  the  diamond  trade  as  now 
constituted  and  conducted  no  one  can  say. 

These  marvelous  new  things  in  science  and  invention  have 
been  made  possible  by  the  chaining  of  Niagara  to  the  wheels 
of  industry.  The  power  of  the  falling  water  is  transformed 
into  electricity.  Electricity  and  heat  are  both  vibratory  mo- 
tions of  the  ether;  science  has  found  that  the  vibrations  known 
as  electricity  can  be  changed  into  the  vibrations  known  as  heat. 
Accordingly,  a  thousand  horse-power  from  the  mighty  river  is 
conveyed  as  electricity  over  a  copper  wire,  changed  into  heat 
and  light  between  the  tips  of  carbon  electrodes,  and  there  works 
its  wonders.  In  principle  the  electrical  furnace  is  identical 
with  the  electric  light.  It  is  scarcely  twenty  years  since  the 
first  electrical  f urnaces  of  real  practical  utility  were  constructed ; 
but  if  the  electrical  furnaces  to-day  in  operation  at  Niagara 
Falls  alone  were  combined  into  one,  they  would,  as  one  scientist 


THE  HOTTEST  HEAT  127 

speculates,  make  a  glow  so  bright  that  it  could  be  seen  distinctly 
from  the  moon  —  a  hint  for  the  astronomers  who  are  seeking 
methods  for  communicating  with  the  inhabitants  of  Mars.  One 
furnace  has  been  built  in  which  an  amount  of  heat  energy 
equivalent  to  700  horse-power  is  produced  in  an  arc  cavity 
not  larger  than  an  ordinary  water  tumbler. 

On  reaching  Niagara  Falls,  I  called  on  Mr.  E.  0.  Acheson, 
whose  name  stands  with  that  of  Moissan  as  a  pioneer  in  the 
investigation  of  high  temperatures.  Mr.  Acheson  is  still  a  young 
man  —  not  more  than  forty-five  at  most  —  and  clean-cut,  clear- 
eyed,  and  genial,  with  something  of  the  studious  air  of  a  col- 
lege professor.  He  is  pre-eminently  a  self-made  man.  At 
twenty-four  he  found  a  place  in  Edison's  laboratory  — "  Edi- 
son's college  of  inventions,"  he  calls  it  —  and,  at  twenty-five,  he 
was  one  of  the  seven  pioneers  in  electricity  who  (in  1881-82) 
introduced  the  incandescent  lamp  in  Europe.  He  installed  the 
first  electric-light  plants  in  the  cities  of  Milan,  Genoa,  Venice, 
and  Amsterdam,  and  during  this  time  was  one  of  Edison's  rep- 
resentatives in  Paris. 

"  I  think  the  possibility  of  manufacturing  genuine  diamonds," 
he  said  to  me,  "  has  dazzled  more  than  one  young  experimenter. 
My  first  efforts  in  this  direction  were  made  in  1880.  It  was 
before  we  had  command  of  the  tremendous  electric  energy 
now  furnished  by  the  modern  dynamo,  and  when  the  highest 
heat  attainable  for  practical  purposes  was  obtained  by  the  oxy- 
hydrogen  flame.  Even  this  was  at  the  service  of  only  a  few 
experimenters,  and  certainly  not  at  mine.  My  first  experiments 
were  made  in  what  I  might  term  the  'wet  way';  that  is, 
by  the  process  of  chemical  decomposition  by  means  of  an  elec- 
tric current.  Very  interesting  results  were  obtained,  which 
even  now  give  promise  of  value;  but  the  diamond  did  not  ma- 
terialize. 

"  I  did  not  take  up  the  subject  again  until  the  dynamo  had 
attained  high  perfection  and  I  was  able  to  procure  currents  of 
great  power.  Calling  in  the  aid  of  the  6,500°  Fahrenheit  or  more 
of  temperature  produced  by  these  electric  currents,  I  once  more 
set  myself  to  the  solution  of  the  problem.  I  now  had,  however, 
two  distinct  objects  in  view:  first,  the  making  of  a  diamond; 
and,  second,  the  production  of  a  hard  substance  for  abrasive 
purposes.     My  experiments  in  1880  had  resulted  in  producing 


128  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

a  substance  of  extreme  hardness,  hard  enough,  indeed,  to  scratch 
the  sapphire  —  the  next  hardest  thing  to  the  diamond  —  and  I 
saw  that  such  a  material,  cheaply  made,  would  have  great  value. 

"My  first  experiment  in  this  new  series  was  of  a  kind  that 
would  have  been  denounced  as  absurd  by  any  of  the  old-school 
book-chemists,  and  had  I  had  a  similar  training,  the  probability 
is  that  I  should  not  have  made  such  an  investigation.  But 
^  fools  rush  in  where  angels  fear  to  tread,'  and  the  experiment 
was  made." 

This  experiment  by  Mr.  Acheson,  extremely  simple  in  exe- 
cution, was  the  first  act  in  rolling  the  stone  from  the  entrance 
to  a  veritable  Aladdin's  cave,  into  which  a  multitude  of  ex- 
perimenters have  passed  in  their  search  for  nature's  secrets; 
for,  while  the  use  of  the  electrical  furnace  in  the  reduction  of 
metals  —  in  the  breaking  down  of  nature's  compounds  —  was 
not  new,  its  use  for  synthetic  chemistry  —  for  the  putting  to- 
gether, the  building  up,  the  formation  of  compounds  —  was 
entirely  new.  It  has  enabled  the  chemist  not  only  to  reproduce 
the  compounds  of  nature,  but  to  go  further  and  produce  val- 
uable compounds  that  are  wholly  new  and  were  heretofore  un- 
known to  man.  Mr.  Acheson  conjectured  that  carbon,  if  made 
to  combine  with  clay,  would  produce  an  extremely  hard  sub- 
stance; and  that,  having  been  combined  with  the  clay,  if  it 
should  in  the  cooling  separate  again  from  the  clay,  it  would 
issue  out  of  the  operation  as  diamond.  He  therefore  mixed  a 
little  clay  and  coke  dust  together,  placed  them  in  a  crucible, 
inserted  the  ends  of  two  electric-light  carbons  into  the  mix- 
ture, and  connected  the  carbons  with  a  dynamo.  The  fierce 
heat  generated  at  the  points  of  the  carbons  fused  the  clay, 
and  caused  portions  of  the  carbon  to  dissolve.  After  cool- 
ing, a  careful  examination  was  made  of  the  mass,  and  a  few 
small  purple  crystals  were  found.  They  sparkled  with  some- 
thing of  the  brightness  of  diamonds,  and  were  so  hard  that 
they  scratched  glass.  Mr,  Acheson  decided  at  once  that  they 
could  not  be  diamonds;  but  he  thought  they  might  be  rubies 
or  sapphires.  A  little  later,  though,  when  he  had  made  sim- 
ilar crystals  of  a  larger  size,  he  found  that  they  were  harder  than 
rubies,  even  scratching  the  diamond  itself.  He  showed  them  to 
a  number  of  expert  jewelers,  chemists,  and  geologists.  They 
had  so  much  the  appearance  of  natural  gems  that  many  ex- 


THE  HOTTEST  HEAT  129 

perts  to  whom  they  were  submitted  without  explanation  decided 
that  they  must  certainly  be  of  natural  production.  Even  so 
eminent  an  authority  as  Geikie,  the  Scotch  geologist,  on  being 
told,  after  he  had  examined  them,  that  the  crystals  were  manu- 
factured in  America,  responded  testily :  "  These  Americans ! 
What  won^t  they  claim  next?  Why,  man,  those  crystals  have 
been  in  the  earth  a  million  years.'^ 

Mr.  Acheson  decided  at  first  that  his  crystals  were  a  com- 
bination of  carbon  and  aluminium,  and  gave  them  the  name 
carborundum.  He  at  once  set  to  work  to  manufacture  them 
in  large  quantities  for  use  in  making  abrasive  wheels,  whet- 
stones, and  sandpaper,  and  for  other  purposes  for  which  emery 
and  corundum  were  formerly  used.  He  soon  found  by  chemical 
analysis,  however,  that  carborundum  was  not  composed  of  car- 
bon and  aluminium,  but  of  carbon  and  silica,  or  sand,  and  that 
he  had,  in  fact,  created  a  new  substance ;  so  far  as  human  knowl- 
edge now  extends,  no  such  combination  occurs  anywhere  in 
nature.  And  it  was  made  possible  only  by  the  electrical  fur- 
nace, with  its  power  of  producing  heat  of  untold  intensity. 

In  order  to  get  a  clear  understanding  of  the  actual  workings 
of  the  electrical  furnace,  I  visited  the  plant  where  Mr.  Acheson 
makes  carborundum.  The  furnace-room  is  a  great,  dingy  brick 
building,  open  at  the  sides  like  a  shed.  It  is  located  only  a 
few  hundred  yards  from  the  banks  of  the  Niagara  Eiver  and 
well  within  the  sound  of  the  great  falls.  Just  below  it,  and 
nearer  the  city,  stands  the  handsome  building  of  the  Power 
Company,  in  which  the  mightiest  dynamos  in  the  world  whir 
ceaselessly,  day  and  night,  while  the  waters  of  Magara  churn 
in  the  water-wheel  pits  below.  Heavy  copper  wires  carrying  a 
current  of  2,200  volts  lead  from  the  power-house  to  Mr.  Ache- 
son's  furnaces,  where  the  electrical  energy  is  transformed  into 
heat. 

There  are  ten  furnaces  in  all,  built  loosely  of  fire-brick,  and 
fitted  at  each  end  with  electrical  connections.  And  strange 
they  look  to  one  who  is  familiar  with  the  ordinary  fuel  furnace, 
for  they  have  no  chimneys,  no  doors,  no  drafts,  no  ash-pits,  no 
blinding  glow  of  heat  and  light.  The  room  in  which  they 
stand  is  comfortably  cool.  Each  time  a  furnace  is  charged  it 
is  built  up  anew;  for  the  heat  produced  is  so  fierce  that  it 
frequently  melts  the  bricks  together,  and  new  ones  must  be 

9 


130  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

supplied.  There  were  furnaces  in  many  stages  of  development. 
One  had  been  in  full  blast  for  nearly  thirty  hours,  and  a  weird 
sight  it  was.  The  top  gave  one  the  instant  impression  of  the 
seamy  side  of  a  volcano.  The  heaped  coke  was  cracked  in  every 
direction,  and  from  out  of  the  crevices  and  depressions  and 
from  between  the  joints  of  the  loosely  built  brick  walls  gushed 
flames  of  pale  green  and  blue,  rising  upward,  and  burning  now 
high,  now  low,  but  without  noise  beyond  a  certain  low  humming. 
Within  the  furnace  —  which  was  oblong  in  shape,  about  the 
height  •  of  a  man,  and  sixteen  feet  long  by  six  wide  —  there 
was  a  channel,  or  core,  of  white-hot  carbon  in  a  nearly  vaporized 
state.  It  represented  graphically  in  its  seething  activity  what 
the  burning  surface  of  the  sun  might  be  —  and  it  was  almost 
as  hot.  Yet  the  heat  was  scarcely  manifest  a  dozen  feet  from 
the  furnace,  and  but  for  the  blue  flames  rising  from  the  cr^^cks 
in  the  envelope,  or  wall,  one  might  have  laid  his  hand  almost 
anywhere  on  the  bricks  without  danger  of  burning  it. 

In  the  best  modem  blast-furnaces,  in  which  the  coal  is 
supplied  with  special  artificial  draft  to  make  it  burn  the 
more  fiercely,  the  heat  may  reach  3,000  degrees  Fahrenheit. 
This  is  less  than  half  of  that  produced  in  the  electrical  furnace. 
In  porcelain  kilns,  the  potters,  after  hours  of  firing,  have  been 
able  to  produce  a  cumulative  temperature  of  as  much  as  3,300 
degrees  Fahrenheit;  and  this,  with  the  oxyhydrogen  flame  (in 
which  hydrogen  gas  is  spurred  to  greater  heat  by  an  excess 
of  oxygen),  is  the  very  extreme  of  heat  obtainable  by  any 
artificial  means  except  by  the  electrical  furnace.  Thus  the  elec- 
trical furnace  has  fully  doubled  the  practical  possibilities  in 
the  artificial  production  of  heat. 

Mr.  Fitzgerald,  the  chemist  of  the  Acheson  Company,  pointed 
out  to  me  a  curious  glassy  cavity  in  one  of  the  half-dismantled 
furnaces.  "  Here  the  heat  was  only  a  fraction  of  that  in 
the  core,"  he  said.  But  still  the  fire-brick  —  and  they  were  the 
most  refractory  produced  in  this  country  —  had  been  melted 
down  like  butter.  The  floors  under  the  furnace  were  all  made 
of  fire-brick,  and  yet  the  brick  had  run  together  until  they 
were  one  solid  mass  of  glassy  stone.  "We  once  tried  putting 
a  fire-brick  in  the  center  of  the  core,"  said  Mr.  Fitzgerald, 
"  just  to  test  the  heat.     Later,  when  we  came  to  open  the  fur- 


BLOWING  OFF. 
"JVb^  infrequently  gm  collects,  forming  a  miniature  mountain,  with  a 
cratei'  at  its  summit,  and  blowing  a  magnificent  fountain  of  flame,  lava, 
and  dense,  white  vapor  high  into  the  air,  and  roaring  all  the  while  in  a 
most  ten-ifying  mannei:" 


THE  HOTTEST  HEAT  131 

nace,  we  couldn't  find  a  vestige  of  it.  The  fire  had  totally  con- 
sumed it,  actually  driving  it  all  off  in  vapor/' 

Indeed,  so  hot  is  the  core  that  there  is  really  no  accurate 
means  of  measuring  its  temperature,  although  science  has  been 
enabled  by  various  curious  devices  to  form  a  fairly  correct 
estimate.  The  furnace  has  a  provoking  way  of  burning  up  all 
of  the  thermometers  and  heat-measuring  devices  which  are  ap- 
plied to  it.  A  number  of  years  ago  a  clever  German,  named 
Segar,  invented  a  series  of  little  cones  composed  of  various 
infusible  earths  like  clay  and  feldspar.  He  so  fashioned  them 
that  one  in  the  series  would  melt  at  1,620  degrees  Fahrenheit, 
another  at  1,800  degrees,  and  so  on  up.  If  the  cones  are  placed 
in  a  pottery  kiln,  the  potter  can  tell  just  what  degree  of  tem- 
perature he  has  reached  by  the  melting  of  the  cones  one  after 
another.  But  in  Mr.  Acheson's  electrical  furnaces  all  the  cones 
would  burn  up  and  disappear  in  two  minutes.  The  method  em- 
ployed for  coming  at  the  heat  of  the  electrical  furnace,  in  some 
measure,  is  this:  a  thin  filament  of  platinum  is  heated  red 
hot  — 1,800  degrees  Fahrenheit  —  by  a  certain  current  of  elec- 
tricity. A  delicate  thermometer  is  set  three  feet  away,  and 
the  reading  is  taken.  Then,  by  a  stronger  current,  the  filament 
is  made  white  hot  —  3,400  degrees  Fahrenheit  —  and  the  ther- 
mometer moved  away  until  it  reads  the  same  as  it  read  before. 
Two  points  in  a  distance-scale  are  thus  obtained  as  a  basis  of 
calculation.  The  thermometer  is  then  tried  by  an  electrical 
furnace.  To  be  kept  at  the  same  marking  it  must  be  placed 
much  farther  away  than  in  either  of  the  other  instances.  A 
simple  computation  of  the  comparative  distances  with  relation 
to  the  two  well-ascertained  temperatures  gives  approximately, 
at  least,  the  temperature  of  the  electrical  furnace. "  Some  other 
methods  are  also  employed.  None  is  regarded  as  perfectly 
exact;  but  they  are  near  enough  to  have  yielded  some  very 
interesting  and  valuable  statistics  regarding  the  power  of  va- 
rious temperatures.  For  instance,  it  has  been  found  that  alu- 
minium becomes  a  limpid  liquid  at  from  4,050  to  4,320  degrees 
Fahrenheit,  and  that  lime  melts  at  from  4,940  to  5,400  de- 
grees, and  magnesia  at  4,680  degrees. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  electrical  furnaces,  as  there  are  two 
kinds  of  electric  lights  —  arc  and  incandescent.  Moissan  has 
used  the  arc  furnace  in  all  of  his  experiments,  but  Mr.  Acheson^s 


132  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

furnaces  follow  rather  the  principle  of  the  incandescent  lamp. 
"The  incandescent  light/'  said  Mr.  Fitzgerald,  "is  produced  by 
the  resistance  of  a  platinum  wire  or  a  carbon  filament  to  the 
passage  of  a  current  of  electricity.  Both  light  and  heat  are 
given  off.  In  our  furnace,  the  heat  is  produced  by  the  resist- 
ance of  a  solid  cylinder  or  core  of  pulverized  coke  to  the  passage 
of  a  strong  current  of  electricity.  When  the  core  becomes 
white  hot  it  causes  the  materials  surrounding  it  to  unite  chem- 
ically, producing  the  carborundum  crystals." 

The  materials  used  are  of  the  commonest  —  pure  white  sand, 
coke,  sawdust,  and  salt.  The  sand  and  coke  are  mixed  in  the 
proportions  of  sixty  to  forty,  the  sawdust  is  added  to  keep 
the  mixture  loose  and  open,  and  the  salt  to  assist  the  chemical 
combination  of  the  ingredients.  The  furnace  is  half  filled 
with  this  mixture,  and  then  the  core  of  coke,  twenty-one  inches 
in  diameter,  is  carefully  molded  in  place.  This  core  is  sixteen 
feet  long,  reaching  the  length  of  the  furnace,  and  connecting 
at  each  end  with  an  immense  carbon  terminal,  consisting  of  no 
fewer  than  twenty-five  rods  of  carbon,  each  four  inches  square 
and  nearly  three  feet  long.  These  terminals  carry  the  current 
into  the  core  from  huge  insulated  copper  bars  connected  from 
above.  When  the  core  is  complete,  more  of  the  carborundum 
mixture  is  shoveled  in  and  tamped  down  until  the  furnace 
is  heaping  full. 

Everything  is  now  ready  for  the  electric  current.  The  wires 
from  the  Magara  Falls  power-plant  come  through  an  adjoin- 
ing building,  where  one  is  confronted,  upon  entering,  with  this 
suggestive  sign: 

DANGEE 

2,200  Volts. 

Tesla  produces  immensely  higher  voltages  than  this  for  lab- 
oratory experiments,  but  there  are  few  more  powerful  currents  in 
use  in  this  country  for  practical  purposes.  Only  about  2,000 
volts  are  required  for  executing  criminals  under  the  electric 
method  employed  in  New  York;  400  volts  will  run  a  trolley- 
car.  It  is  hardly  comfortable  to  know  that  a  single  touch  of  one 
of  the  wires  or  switches  in  this  room  means  almost  certain 
death.     Mr.  Fitzgerald  gave  me  a  vivid  demonstration  of  the 


THE  HOTTEST  HEAT  133 

terrific  destructive  force  of  the  Niagara  Falls  current.  He 
showed  me  how  the  circuit  was  broken.  For  ordinary  currents, 
the  breaking  of  a  circuit  simply  means  a  twist  of  the  wrist  and 
the  opening  of  a  brass  switch.  Here,  however,  the  current  is 
'carried  into  a  huge  iron  tank  full  of  salt  water.  The  attend- 
ant, pulling  on  a  rope,  lifts  an  iron  plate  from  the  tank.  The 
moment  it  leaves  the  water,  there  follow  a  rumbling  crash  like  a 
thimder-clap,  a  blinding  burst  of  flame,  and  thick  clouds  of 
steam  and  spray.  The  sight  and  sound  of  it  make  you  feel 
delicate  about  interfering  with  a  2,200-volt  current. 

This  current  is,  indeed,  too  strong  in  voltage  for  the  furnaces, 
and  it  is  cut  down,  by  means  of  what  were  until  recently 
the  largest  transformers  in  the  world,  to  about  100  volts,  or  one- 
fourth  the  pressure  used  on  the  average  trolley  line.  It  is  now, 
however,  a  current  of  great  intensity  —  7,500  amperes,  as  com- 
pared with  the  one-half  ampere  used  in  an  incandescent  lamp; 
and  it  requires  eight  square  inches  of  copper  and  400  square 
inches  of  carbon  to  carry  it. 

Within  the  furnace,  when  the  current  is  turned  on,  a  thou- 
sand horse-power  of  energy  is  continuously  transformed  into 
heat.  Think  of  it!  Is  it  any  wonder  that  the  temperature 
goes  up?  And  this  is  continued  for  thirty-six  hours  steadily, 
until  36,000  "horse-power  hours ^'  are  used  up  and  7,000  pounds 
of  the  crystals  have  been  formed.  Eemembering  that  36,000 
horse-power  hours,  when  converted  into  heat,  will  raise  72,000 
gallons  of  water  to  the  boiling  point,  or  will  bring  350  tons  of 
iron  up  to  a  red  heat,  one  can  at  least  have  a  sort  of  idea  of  the 
heat  evolved  in  a  carborundum  furnace. 

When  the  coke  core  glows  white,  chemical  action  begins  in 
the  mixture  around  it.  The  top  of  the  furnace  now  slowly 
settles,  and  cracks  in  long,  irregular  fissures,  sending  out  a  pun- 
gent gas  which,  when  lighted,  burns  lambent  blue.  This  gas  is 
carbon  monoxide,  and  during  the  process  nearly  six  tons  of  it 
are  thrown  off  and  wasted.  It  seems,  indeed,  a  somewhat  ex- 
travagant process,  for  fifty-six  pounds  of  gas  are  produced  for 
every  forty  of  carborundum. 

"  It  is  very  distinctly  a  geological  condition,^'  said  Mr.  Fitz- 
gerald ;  "  crystals  are  not  only  formed  exactly  as  they  are  in 
the  earth,  but  we  have  our  own  little  earthquakes  and  volca- 
noes.^'    Not    infrequently    gas    collects,    forming    a    miniature 


134  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

mountain,  with  a  crater  at  its  summit,  and  blowing  a  magni- 
ficent fountain  of  flame,  lava,  and  dense  white  vapor  high  into 
the  air,  and  roaring  all  the  while  in  a  most  terrifying  manner. 
The  workmen  call  it  "blowing  off." 

At  the  end  of  thirty-six  hours  the  current  is  cut  off,  and 
the  furnace  is  allowed  to  cool,  the  workmen  pulling  down  the 
brick  as  rapidly  as  they  dare.  At  the  center  of  the  furnace, 
surrounding  the  core,  there  remains  a  solid  mass  of  carborun- 
dum as  large  in  diameter  as  a  hogshead.  Portions  of  this  mass 
are  sometimes  found  to  be  composed  of  pure,  beautifully  crystal- 
line graphite.  This  in  itself  is  a  surprising  and  significant  prod- 
uct, and  it  has  opened  the  way  directly  to  graphite-making 
on  a  large  scale.  An  important  and  interesting  feature  of  the 
new  graphite  industry  is  the  utilization  it  has  effected  of  a 
product  from  the  coke  regions  of  Pennsylvania  which  was  for- 
merly absolute  waste. 

To  return  to  carborundum :  when  the  furnace  has  been  cooled 
and  the  walls  torn  away,  the  core  of  carborundum  is  broken 
open,  and  the  beautiful  purple  and  blue  crystals  are  laid  bare, 
still  hot.  The  sand  and  the  coke  have  united  in  a  compound 
nearly  as  hard  as  the  diamond  and  even  more  indestructible, 
being  less  inflammable  and  wholly  indissoluble  in  even  the 
strongest  acids.  After  being  taken  out,  the  crystals  are  crushed 
to  powder  and  combined  in  various  forms  convenient  for  the 
various  uses  for  which  it  is  designed. 

I  asked  Mr.  Acheson  if  he  could  make  diamonds  in  his  fur- 
naces. "Possibly,"  he  answered,  "with  certain  modifications." 
Diamonds,  as  he  explained,  are  formed  by  great  heat  and  great 
pressure.  The  great  heat  is  now  easily  obtained,  but  science  has 
not  yet  learned  nature's  secret  of  great  pressure.  Moissan's 
method  of  making  diamonds  is  to  dissolve  coke  dust  in  molten 
iron,  using  a  carbon  crucible  into  which  the  electrodes  are  in- 
serted. When  the  whole  mass  is  fluid,  the  crucible  and  its  con- 
tents are  suddenly  dashed  into  cold  water  or  melted  lead.  This 
instantaneous  cooling  of  the  iron  produces  enormous  pressure, 
so  that  the  carbon  is  crystallized  in  the  form  of  diamond. 

But  whatever  it  may  or  may  not  yet  be  able  to  do  in  the 
matter  of  diamond-making,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  possi- 
bilities of  the  electrical  furnace  are  beyond  all  present  con- 
jecture.    With  American  inventors  busy  in  its  further  devel- 


THE  HOTTEST  HEAT  135 

opment,  and  with  electricity  as  cheap  as  the  mighty  power  of 
Niagara  can  make  it,  there  is  no  telling  what  new  and  wonder- 
ful products,  now  perhaps  wholly  unthought-of  by  the  human 
race,  it  may  become  possible  to  manufacture,  and  manufacture 
cheaply. 


136  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


UNSOLVED  PROBLEMS  OF  CHEMISTRY. 

By  IRA  REMSEN,  LL.D. 

THE  first  duty  of  the  chemist  is  to  examine  every  kind  of 
matter  accessible  to  him  and  to  determine  whether  it 
is  an  element  or  not.  If  it  is  not,  and  this  is  usually  the 
case  as  regards  the  things  found  in  nature,  his  next  duty  is 
to  attack  the  compound  in  every  way  that  is  likely  to  lead  to 
its  decomposition,  and  when  he  reaches  a  substance  from  which 
he  cannot  get  simpler  ones,  he  calls  this  an  element.  Thus  iron, 
copper,  gold,  silver,  tin,  hydrogen,  and  oxygen  are  elements. 
None  of  these  can  be  decomposed  by  the  means  at  present  at 
the  command  of  the  chemist.  They  are  like  the  letters  of  a 
language  in  some  respect.  Words  can  be  decomposed  or  re- 
solved into  letters,  but  letters  are  the  elements  of  language. 
What  elements  are  in  the  earth,  in  the  air,  in  water  ?  .  An  im- 
mense amount  of  work  has  been  done  that  has  had  for  its 
object  the  answering  of  this  question.  The  earth  has  been 
ransacked  almost  from  pole  to  pole.  The  air  from  all  sorts 
of  localities  has  been  examined.  The  waters,  from  ocean,  rivers, 
and  springs,  have  been  made  to  stand  and  answer  the  search- 
ing questions  of  the  chemist;  and  animals  and  plants  have  been 
compelled  to  give  up  their  secrets  —  or  some  of  them. 

What  is  the  result?  In  brief,  it  is  this:  Although  we  find 
an  infinite  number  of  kinds  of  matter,  all  of  these  can  be 
resolved  into  a  comparatively  small  number  of  elements.  In- 
rleed,  not  more  than  a  dozen  of  these  elements  enter  into  the 
composition  of  the  things  that  are  at  all  common.  But  by 
going  into  out-of-the-way  corners  rare  things  have  been  found, 
and  from  these,  in  turn,  rare  elements  have  been  obtained.  Al- 
together, between  seventy  and  eighty  elements  have  been  found. 
Additions  are  made  to  the  list  from  time  to  time;  and,  occa- 
sionally, one  of  the  substances  supposed  to  be  an  element  is 


UNSOLVED  PROBLEMS  OF  CHEMISTRY       137 

found  to  be  capable  of  decomposition,  and  it  therefore  becomes 
necessary  to  strike  it  from  the  list  of  elements. 

Out  of  these  simplest  forms  of  matter  everything  that  we  see 
or  feel,  or  are  in  any  way  cognizant  of,  is  made  up.  But  now 
arises  the  deep  question:  What  is  an  elemenfi  To  this  ques- 
tion chemists  are  not  able  to  give  an  answer.  The  relations 
of  the  elements  to  one  another  form  one  of  the  unsolved  prob- 
lems of  chemistry.  It  may  be  that  they  are  not  related  at  all, 
but  that  each  one  is  an  independent  form  of  matter.  There 
are,  however,  indications  of  family, relationships  between  them 
that  have  long  been  the  subject  of  investigation.  The  elements 
fal]  into  groups,  the  members  of  which  resemble  one  another 
very  closely  in  some  respects.  Thus,  for  example,  phosphorus 
and  arsenic  conduct  themselves,  in  general,  alike  toward  other 
elements.  They  combine  with  them  to  form  compounds  that 
are  very  much  alike  —  so  much  so  that  in  some  cases  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  tell  them  apart.  These  elements  are  said  to  belong  to  the 
same  family.  The  family  traits  are  easily  recognized  in  them. 
Similar  relationships  are  met  with  throughout  the  entire  list 
of  elements.  This  subject  has  been  beautifully  worked  out  by 
the  Eussian  chemist  Mendeleef  and  the  German,  Lothar  Meyer. 
The  former,  indeed,  pointed  out,  thirty  years  ago,  that  some 
of  the  families  are  not  complete.  There  were  a  number  of 
vacant  chairs.  He  was  able  to  predict  the  discovery  of  some  of 
these  missing  members  and  to  describe  them  in  detail.  Three 
of  these  have  since  been  discovered,  and  they  have  been  found 
to  answer  the  description  given  by  Mendeleef  before  their  dis- 
covery. Now  that  the  way  has  been  pointed  out,  it  is  a  com- 
paratively simple  thing  to  predict  the  discovery  of  other  'ele- 
ments. The  vacant  chairs  are  there,  but  though  the  elements 
that  are  eventually  to  occupy  them  are  probably  hidden  away 
somewhere  in  the  earth,  they  have  thus  far  eluded  the  chemist. 

As  regards  the  character  of  the  relationships  that  exist  be- 
tween the  elements,  it  is  difficult,  or,  rather,  quite  impossible, 
to  speak  with  confidence.  Apparently,  the  elements  are  brothers 
and  sisters.  We  want  to  find  the  fathers  and  mothers.  But  it 
appears  that  they  are  no  longer  living.  The  plain  question  that 
we  cannot  help  asking  is:  Have  the  elements  existed  from  the 
beginning  of  time,  or  have  they  been  formed  from  a  smaller 
number  of  simpler  forms  of  matter?     Of  course,  one  can  speeu- 


138  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

late  on  such  a  subject,  but  can  one  speculate  profitably?  It 
may  as  well  be  acknowledged  at  once  that  we  know  practically 
nothing  in  regard  to  the  origin  of  the  elements,  or  of  the  cause 
of  the  relationships  that  are  so  easily  recognized. 

It  has  been  suggested  that  the  elements  are  the  products  of 
an  evolutionary  process  that  has  been  in  progress  from  the  be- 
ginning, and  that  they  all  owe  their  existence  to  a  primordial 
form  of  matter,  simpler  than  any  one  of  the  so-called  elements. 
Some  evidence  in  favor  of  this  view  seems  to  be  furnished  by 
the  spectroscopic  examination  of  celestial  bodies.  The  nebulae 
have  been  shown  to  contain  the  smallest  number  of  our  chemical 
elements;  the  hotter  stars  are  somewhat  more  Qomplex;  in  the 
colored  stars  and  the  sun  a  large  number  of  elements  appear; 
while  the  planets  are  the  most  complex.  The  complexity  seems 
to  depend  upon  the  tem-perature.  The  higher  the  temperature, 
the  smaller  the  number  of  kinds  of  matter  present.  Now,  may  it 
not  be  that  the  elements  known  to  us  are  derived  from  simpler 
forms,  or  from  one  single  simplest  form?  We  can  only  answer 
—  it  may.  If  this  is  the  true  conception  of  the  relations  be- 
tween the  elements,  then  "in  the  beginning"  space  must  have 
been  filled  with  an  incandescent  vapor  made  up  of  the  simplest 
form  of  matter.  As  this  has  cooled,  it  has  taken  other  forms, 
and  some  of  these  are  the  things  we  now  call  elements.  But  this 
shows  how  easy  it  is  to  relapse  into  the  ways  of  our  forefathers 
and  let  our  imaginations  run  wild. 

Another  unsolved  problem  of  chemistry  is  that  presented  by 
the  fundamental  constituents  of  plants  and  animals.  No  one 
knows  better  than  the  chemist  that  all  living  things  are  "  fear- 
fully and  wonderfully  made."  Plants  take  materials  of  various 
kinds  from  the  air  and  from  the  earth,  and  work  them  up  in 
proper  shape  for  their  growth.  In  turn,  animals  take  parts  of 
some  plants  or  parts  of  some  animals,  and  work  them  up  so  that 
they  become  part  and  parcel  of  the  animal  bodies.  Life  and 
growth  of  plant  and  animal  depend  upon  this  power  to  con- 
vert food  into  other  things  that  can  take  their  proper  places 
in  the  body.  Chemical  change  is  the  beginning  of  life.  But 
what  are  these  things  that  are  formed  within  the  plant  and 
animal  ?  That  is  a  hard  question  to  answer ;  and,  indeed,  the  an- 
swer would  be  confusing.  All  that  need  be  said  is  that  among 
these  things  are  the  fats,  sugar,  starch,  cellulose,  and  a  group 


UNSOLVED  PROBLEMS  OF  CHEMISTRY      139 

of  important  compounds  called  proteids.  Besides  these,  there 
are  innumerable  substances  found  both  in  plants  and  animals. 
Naturally,  chemists  are  interested  in  these  things,  and  they 
have  given,  and  are  giving,  much  time  to  their  investigation. 
It  is  only  through  such  study  that  we  can  hope  ever  to  gain 
any  conception  of  the  changes  that  are  taking  place  in  living 
things,  or  of  the  nature  of  life  in  its  various  forms. 

Of  the  substances  mentioned,  the  fats  are  relatively  the  sim- 
plest, and  they  are,  accordingly,  pretty  well  understood.  It  is 
interesting  to  note  in  passing  that  the  first  and  the  most  im- 
portant chemical  investigation  in  fats  was  carried  out  at  the  be- 
ginning of  this  century  by  the  French  chemist  Chevreul,  who 
died  only  a  few  years  ago  at  the  age  of  103,  having  kept  in 
harness  to  the  last.  Eegarding  our  knowledge  of  fats,  it  is 
safe  to  say  that  we  know  enough  about  them  to  be  able  to 
see  how  one  could,  starting  with  carbon,  hydrogen,  and  oxygen, 
which  are  the  only  elementary  substances  found  in  the  fats  — 
how  one  could  make  in  the  laboratory  the  same  fats  that  occur 
in  living  things.  No  one  has  ever  done  this,  but  it  appears 
highly  probable  that,  with  unlimited  time  at  one's  disposal,  it 
could  be  done  by  making  use  of  methods  that  are  made  use  of 
every  day  in  the  laboratory.  Not  many  years  ago  that  state- 
ment would  have  been  challenged.  The  constituents  of  plants 
and  animals  were  supposed  to  be  entirely  different  from  the  con- 
stituents of  the  manimate  inorganic  parts  of  the  earth,  and 
it  was  further  supposed  that  those  substances  which  are  elabo- 
rated under  the  influence  of  the  life-process  cannot  be  formed 
without  this  influence.  This  may  be  true  of  the  most  complex 
constituents  of  plants  and  animals,  but  it  is  certainly  not  true 
of  some  of  the  simpler  of  these  constituents.  For  example, 
urea,  one  of  the  most  characteristic  substances  formed  in  the 
animal  body,  was  made  in  the  laboratory  in  1828,  by  a  method 
which  was  entirely  independent  of  the  life-process;  and  since 
that  time  innumerable  other  substances  which  are  characteristic 
products  of  the  life-process  have  been  made  artificially.  So 
that,  as  we  know  very  well  what  fats  are,  and  can  make  sub- 
stances of  the  same  kind  in  the  laboratory,  there  is  nothing  out 
of  the  way  in  saying  that  the  fats  could  probably  be  made 
artificially.     Let  us  assume  that  they  can  be.     What  then? 

Next  in  order  of  complexity  come  the  so-called  carbohydrates, 


140  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

which  include  the  sugars,  starch,  and  cellulose.  Is  it  "highly 
probable  '^  that  the  chemist  can  build  these  up  out  of  the  ele- 
ments in  the  laboratory?  Thanks  to  Emil  Fischer,  of  Berlin, 
we  can  now  almost  say  that  sugar  is  not  an  unsolved  problem. 
Within  the  last  few  years  more  has  been  done  to  clear  up  the 
problem  of  the  sugars  than  in  all  preceding  time  put  together. 
One  of  the  simplest  sugars  has  been  prepared  artificially  in  the 
laboratory,  and  the  relations  between  the  others  have  been,  to  a 
large  extent,  revealed. 

But  the  sugars  are  simple  things  compared  with  starch. 
Starch  is  an  unsolved  problem.  It  is  of  the  highest  importance 
in  Nature.  Its  wide  distribution  among  plants  and  the  part  that 
it  plays  as  a  constituent  of  foods  show  this.  What  is  it?  Of 
course,  if  we  say  it  is  a  carbohydrate,  we  have  made  the  whole 
subject  clear!  The  truth  is  we  know  very  little  about  it,  in 
spite  of  the  large  amount  of  work  that  has  been  done  on  it. 
In  what  has  been  done  there  is  little  promise  of  success,  though 
the  chemical  optimist  hopes,  even  in  the  face  of  starch.  I 
confess  to  being  a  moderate  optimist.  If  asked  why  I  hope  in 
this  case,  I  could  only  answer,  "  I  hope  —  that  is  all." 

Let  us  take  the  next  step.  This  brings  us  to  cellulose,  a 
substance  of  very  great  importance  for  all  plants.  It  forms, 
as  it  were,  their  skeletons.  Just  as  animals  are  built  upon  a  ba- 
sis of  bone,  so  plants  are  built  upon  a  basis  of  cellulose.  It  is 
that  constituent  of  plants  that  gives  them  form  and  that  en- 
ables them  to  resist  the  disintegrating  influences  to  which  they 
are  subject  in  Nature.  When  a  piece  of  wood  is  treated  with 
certain  active  substances,  "  chemicals  "  as  they  are  called  by  the 
outside  world,  many  of  the  constituents  are  destroyed  and  re- 
moved, and,  finally,  what  is  known  as  wood-pulp  remains.  This 
is  mainly  cellulose.  As  is  well  known,  large  quantities  of  paper 
are  made  from  this  pulp.  Paper  is,  in  fact,  more  or  less  pure 
cellulose.  Every  plant  contains  cellulose,  and  without  it  the 
plants  could  not  exist.  It  seems  as  though  a  chemist  ought  to 
feel  humiliated  to  have  to  confess  that  even  less  is  known  about 
cellulose  than  about  starch.  There  appears  to  be  some  reason 
for  believing  that  it  is  distantly  related  to  starch,  but  that  is 
about  all  we  can  say.  It  is  probably  enormously  complicated. 
To  be  sure,  it  contains  only  the  three  elements,  carbon,  hydro- 
gen, and  oxygen,  but  these  three  elements  can  combine  with 


UNSOLVED  PROBLEMS  OF  CHEMISTRY      141 

one  another  in  thousands  of  different  ways,  forming,  on  the  one 
hand,  relatively  simple  products,  and,  on  the  other,  products 
of  such  complexity  that  before  them  the  chemist  can  only 
stand  and  wonder.     Cellulose  belongs  to  the  latter  class. 

Finally,  let  us  remove  our  hats  and  shoes,  and,  bowing  low, 
ask  with  bated  breath :  —  What  about  the  proteids  ?  What  about 
them,  indeed?  Let  us,  rather,  go  back  to  cellulose  and  starch 
and  recover  our  courage  and  our  heads.  This  atmosphere  is 
stifling.  I  always  feel  like  running  away  when  any  one  begins 
to  talk  about  proteids  in  my  presence,  and  here  I  am,  trying  to 
write  something  about  them.  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  myself. 
Quoting  from  a  text-book  of  physiology:  "These  (proteids) 
form  the  principal  solids  of  the  muscular,  nervous,  and  glandular 
tissues,  of  the  serum  of  blood,  of  serous  fluids,  and  of  lymph." 
That  tells  the  story.  Wliat  could  we  do  without  them?  It  is 
not  for  me  to  say  what  we  know  about  proteids.  In  my  youth 
I  had  a  desire  to  attack  these  dragons,  but  now  I  am  afraid 
of  them.  Fortunately,  there  is  no  occasion  here  for  enlarging 
upon  them.  I  only  want  to  make  clear  the  fact  that  they  are 
unsolved  problems  of  chemistry ;  and,  let  me  add,  they  are  likely 
to  remain  such  for  generations  to  come.  Yet  every  one  who 
knows  anything  about  chemistry  and  physiology  knows  that  these 
proteids  must  be  understood,  before  we  can  hope  to  have  a 
clear  conception  of  the  chemical  processes  of  the  human  body. 
Fortunately  for  us,  there  are  always  some  chemists  who  delight 
in  working  upon  the  most  difficult  problems  and  are  not  willing 
to  take  "  No  "  for  an  answer.  So  that  there  is  always  some  one 
working  on  the  proteids,  and  something  is  coming  of  it. 

In  the  field  of  synthetic  chemistry  perhaps  the  most  impor- 
tant problem  among  those  that  are  unsolved  is  that  presented 
by  protoplasm.  I  have  recently  heard  of  a  school,  and  a  pri- 
mary school  at  that,  where  the  small  children  are  introduced  to 
the  mysteries  of  life  by  being  told  "  all  about "  protoplasm. 
If  I  were  a  pupil  in  that  school,  I  might  be  able  to  tell  my  read- 
ers what  protoplasm  is,  but,  as  I  have  not  that  privilege,  I  shall 
have  to  acknowledge  that  I  know  very  little  about  it.  In  -fact, 
it  is  a  substance,  or  a  mixture  of  substances,  with  which  the 
chemist  can  do  very  little.  Great  interest  has  been  taken  in  all 
that  pertains  to  protoplasm,  because  it  is  so  directly  connected 
with  life.    The  simplest  organisms  are  the  amoeboe.    These  may 


142  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

be  regarded  as  representing  life  reduced  to  its  lowest  form. 
Now  an  amceba  "  is  wholly,  or  almost  wholly  protoplasm/^  "  It 
lives,  moves,  eats,  grows,  and,  after  a  time,  dies,  having  been, 
during  its  whole  life,  hardly  anything  more  than  a  minute  lump 
of  protoplasm" — (Foster).  Eegarded  as  a  chemical  substance, 
it  contains  the  elements  oxygen,  hydrogen,  nitrogen,  carbon, 
and  sulphur  in  fairly  constant  proportions.  It  would  be  a 
great  day  for  chemistry  if  a  chemist  should  succeed  in  putting 
together,  and  causing  to  unite,  the  above-named  elements  in  the 
proportions  in  which  they  are  present  in  protoplasm,  and  he 
should  find  that  he  had  made  protoplasm  artificially.  If  this 
artificial  protoplasm  should  move  and  eat  and  grow,  he  would 
deserve  to  be  ranked  with  Pygmalion  of  old.  What  are  the 
prospects  ? 

In  the  first  place,  protoplasm  does  not  appear  to  be  a  single 
substance,  but  a  mixture  of  substances.  It  contains  something 
that  is  derived  from  a  proteid,  something  else  derived  from  a 
fat,  and  still  a  third  something  derived  from  a  carbohydrate. 
Perhaps  these  three  things  are  chemically  united  with  one 
another,  and  not  simply  mixed.  The  problem  presented  to 
the  chemist  is  one  of  the  greatest  difficulty.  It  would  be  neces- 
sary for  him  to  determine  exactly  what  proteid,  what  fat,  and 
what  carbohydrate  are  essential  to  the  existence  of  protoplasm; 
then  to  bring  these  together,  and  show  that  the  substance  thus 
obtained  is  identical  with  protoplasm.  This  might  be  accom- 
plished, and  yet  the  protoplasm  obtained  not  be  a  living  thing; 
for  there  is  dead,  as  well  as  living,  protoplasm.  There  is  no 
evidence  that  any  chemist  is  engaged  in  attempts  to  make  pro- 
toplasm in  the  laboratory.  Possibly  some  are  dreaming  of  this 
problem,  but  dreams  are  generally  harmless,  and  sometimes 
they  are  pleasant,  and,  indeed,  useful.  Before  we  can  under- 
stand, if  we  ever  are  to  understand,  the  difference  between  a 
living  and  a  dead  tissue,  we  must  understand  what  protoplasm 
is,  and  our  chances  of  solving  the  problem  presented  by  this 
important  basis  of  life  are  extremely  poor.  Still,  we  may  hope 
to  get  nearer  its  solution  by  continued  investigation,  and  we 
shall  have  to  be  satisfied  with  small  returns  for  our  labor. 

Chemistry  has  to  deal  with  the  composition  of  things,  and 
the  changes  in  the  composition  of  things,  and  all  that  pertains 
to  these  subjects.     Changes  in  composition  are  often  brought 


UNSOLVED  PROBLEMS  OF  CHEMISTRY       143 

about  by  raising  the  temperature.  To  take  a  comparatively 
simple,  though  not  a  familiar,  example,  water  is  a  compound  of 
the  elements  of  hydrogen  and  oxygen.  When  this  is  heated, 
it  is  converted  into  water-vapor.  When  this  vapor  is  heated  to 
4,500  degrees  Fahrenheit,  it  is  resolved  into  hydrogen  and 
oxygen.  At  this  temperature  the  compound,  water,  cannot  exist. 
On  the  other  hand,  when  hydrogen  and  oxygen  are  brought 
together  at  ordinary  temperatures,  they  do  not  combine  to  form 
water,  unless  a  spark  or  a  flame  is  brought  in  contact  with  the 
mixture,  when  a  violent  explosion  occurs,  and  this  is  the  signal 
of  the  chemical  union  of  the  two  elements  to  form  water. 
Again,  when  wood  is  heated,  it  gives  off  gases  and  liquids,  and 
at  last  there  is  nothing  left  but  charcoal,  which  is  one  form 
of  the  element  carbon.  It  is  plain  that  some  substances,  that 
can  exist  at  ordinary  temperature,  are  decomposed  —  that  is 
to  say,  they  cannot  exist  —  at  high  temperatures.  This  is,  in 
fact,  true  of  many  of  the  substances  familiar  to  us.  But  heat 
not  only  decomposes  compounds;  it  also,  if  not  too  intense, 
causes  elements  to  combine  to  form  compounds.  In  the  labora- 
tory and  in  the  factory  heat  is  constantly  being  employed  for 
the  purpose  of  bringing  about,  or  aiding,  chemical  action.  The 
blast-furnace,  from  which  comes  all  our  iron,  is  a  good  example. 
The  object  in  view  is  the  separation  of  the  metal,  iron,  from 
its  ores.  The  ores  consist  of  iron  in  combination  with  oxygen 
and,  sometimes,  other  things;  but  it  is  the  oxygen  that  gives 
the  principal  difficulty.  When  the  compound  of  iron  and  oxy- 
gen is  heated  with  something  that,  under  the  circumstances, 
has  the  power  to  combine  with  the  oxygen  and  escape  with  it 
in  the  form  of  a  gas,  the  iron  is  left  behind.  Charcoal  or  coke 
is  used  for  this  purpose.  At  high  temperatures,  these  sub- 
stances, which  are  different  forms  of  the  element  carbon,  take 
the  oxygen  from  the  iron,  and  the  metal  liberated  sinks  to  the 
bottom  of  the  furnace  in  the  molten  state,  while  the  gaseous 
compound  of  carbon  and  oxygen  passes  out  of  the  top  of  the 
furnace.  The  oxygen  changes  partners.  It  is  to  be  observed 
that  the  iron  ore  might  be  mixed  with  the  charcoal,  and  the 
mixture  allowed  to  stand  at  ordinary  temperatures  for  any 
length  of  time,  without  separation  of  iron.  Heat  is  necessary, 
and  a  good  deal  of  it,  to  cause  the  charcoal  to  unite  with  the 
oxygen  and  carry  it  off  into  space. 


144  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

Heat  being  an  important  factor  in  chemical  acts,  the  question 
suggests  itself :  What  will  be  the  effect  upon  chemical  processes 
if  the  temperature  is  raised  much  above  the  range  within  which 
we  ordinarily  work  ?  And  at  the  same  time  the  complementary- 
question  will  suggest  itself:  What  will  be  the  effect  of  lowering 
the  temperature  much  below  that  at  which  we  ordinarily  work? 

Until  within  the  last  few  years  the  highest  temperatures 
attainable  were  reached  by  the  aid  of  the  so-called  compound 
blowpipe,  which  is  an  instrument  for  burning  hydrogen,  or  some 
other  combustible  gas,  in  oxygen  under  pressure.  By  the  aid 
of  this  instrument  platinum  was  melted  and,  in  one  case,  silver 
was  boiled.  But  now  the  introduction  of  powerful  electric 
currents  has  made  the  production  of  much  higher  temperatures 
possible,  and  marvelous  results  have  been  reached.  M.  Moissan, 
of  Paris,  has  for  some  time  been  engaged  in  studying  the  chem- 
ical effects  of  high  temperatures,  and  to  him  we  owe  almost 
all  we  know  of  chemistry  at  these  temperatures.  He  has  inade 
use  of  a  simple  contrivance,  which  he  calls  an  electric  furnace. 
In  this  he  has  subjected  many  things  to  temperatures  as  high 
as  from  6,000  to  7,000  degrees  Fahrenheit.  It  is  a  pity  that 
Dante  could  not  have  taken  a  course  in  chemistry  under  M. 
Moissan.  These  temperatures,  notwithstanding  their  great 
height,  are  suggestive  of  the  lower  regions.  This  work  has 
opened  up  a  new  world  to  chemists,  and  has  shown  them  that 
there  are  many  imsolved  problems  to  be  found  here.  Things 
that  unite  readily  at  ordinary  high  temperatures  do  not  act  at 
all  at  these  higher  temperatures;  and  things  that  do  not  act  at 
all  at  the  former  act  vigorously  at  the  latter.  There  is  no  end 
of  what  may  be  learned  in  this  new  field. 

Just  as  it  is  desirable  to  know  how  things  act  upon  one  an- 
other at  high  temperatures,  so  it  is  equally  desirable  to  know 
how  they  act  at  low  temperatures.  Curiously  enough,  work  in 
this  direction  has  kept  pace  with  that  in  the  opposite  direction, 
referred  to  in  the  last  paragraph.  Within  the  last  year  or  two, 
the  attention  of  everybody  has  been  directed  to  low  temperatures 
by  the  interesting  work  that  has  been  done  on  liquid  air.  It  is 
well  known  that  air  can  now  be  liquefied  on  the  large  scale, 
and  that  liquid  air  is  an  article  of  commerce.  This  brings  low 
temperatures  to  our  door,  for  it  is  only  necessary  to  expose  the 
liquid  in  an  open  vessel  to  produce  a  temperature  of  about  300 


UNSOLVED  PROBLEMS  OF  CHEMISTRY       145 

degrees  below  zero,  Fahrenheit!  Then,  further,  Dewar  has 
recently  succeeded  in  liquefj'ing  and,  indeed,  solidifying  hydro- 
gen —  a  much  more  difficult  feat  than  liquefying  air  —  and  with 
the  solid  thus  produced  he  has  reached  the  temperature  432 
degrees  below  zero,  Fahrenheit !  There  is  no  serious  difficulty 
then,  at  present,  in  studying  chemical  action  at  temperatures  in 
the  neighborhood  of  300  degrees  below  zero.  The  first  results 
are  not  reassuring.  Things  are  not  very  lively  down  there,  to 
say  the  least.  It  may  be  that  all  chemical  action  ceases  below  a 
certain  temperature,  but  we  do  not,  as  yet,  know  enough  about 
this  subject  to  justify  us  in  speaking  with  confidence  about  it. 
Countless  experiments  yet  unborn  will  have  to  be  tried.  In 
thinking  of  the  possibilities,  we  are  confronted  with  what  ap- 
pears to  be  a  paradox.  It  has  been  pointed  out  that  high  tem- 
perature, in  many  cases,  has  the  effect  of  decomposing  sub- 
stances. This  shows  that  these  substances  are  more  stable  -at 
low  temperatures  than  at  the  ordinary  temperatures.  In  other 
words,  if  heat  causes  the  constituents  to  separate,  cold  might 
apparently  cause  them  to  unite  more  firmly.  But,  if  this  is  so, 
why  do  not  substances  act  upon  each  other  readily  at  low  temper- 
atures? It  may  be  that  the  constituents  are  so  firmly  held 
together  that  they  cannot  move  about  among  one  another,  as  they 
must  in  order  to  combine.  The  water  that  is  frozen  in  a  glacier 
does  not  act  like  water  at  ordinary  temperatures.  It  is,  as  it 
were,  chained  up  and  prevented  from  obeying  the  laws  of  water. 
In  what  I  have  thus  far  had  to  say,  I  have  kept  in  view 
certain  problems  which  do  not  necessarily  call  for  much  specula- 
tion. It  would,  however,  hardly  be  fair  to  leave  the  specula- 
tive side  of  chemistry  entirely  out  of  consideration.  Sometimes 
young  pupils  are  introduced  to  chemistry  through  the  atom. 
Only  very  young,  or  very  ignorant,  persons  can  talk  with  con- 
fidence about  atoms.  The  further  one  goes  into  the  m5^steries 
of  chemistr}^  the  more  m^'Sterious  appears  the  atom.  In  fact, 
the  atom  is  the  great  unsolved  problem  of  chemistry.  But  this 
is  subtle.  What  is  an  atom?  Ah!  that  is  the  question.  It  has 
been  a  favorite  subject  of  thought  from  the  earliest  days.  Up 
to  the  beginning  of  this  century,  however,  it  was  nothing  but 
a  metaphysical  plaything.  The  wits  of  generations  of  philoso- 
phers have  been  sharpened  by  efforts  to  decide  whether  matter 
is  infinitely  divisible  or  not.     Take  a  piece  of,  say,  iron.     No 


146  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

matter  what  its  size  may  be,  it  can  be  broken  up  into  smaller 
pieces;  and  each  of  the  pieces  thus  obtained  can  be  still  further 
subdivided.  Now,  how  far  can  this  process  of  subdivision  be 
carried?  Is  there  any  limit?  The  atomists  held  that,  after  a 
time,  particles  would  be  reached  so  small  that  they  could  not 
be  made  smaller.  But  their  opponents  said,  "  No !  this  is  in- 
conceivable. Matter  must  be  infinitely  divisible.'^  As  neither 
side  could  prove  the  other  wrong,  the  question  under  discussion 
was  well  adapted  to  the  purposes  of  controversy. 

The  atom  of  to-day  is  a  scientific  abstraction.  Many  facts 
have  been  brought  to  light  that  make  it  appear  certain  that  mat- 
ter is  not  continuous  —  is  not  capable  of  infinite  subdivision. 
Dalton,  the  Quaker  schoolmaster  of  Manchester,  was  the  first 
one  to  bring  the  atom  down  to  the  earth  and  make  it  a  useful 
idea.  How  he  did  this  cannot  be  shown  here.  Sufiice  it  to  say, 
the  atomic  theory  proposed  by  Dalton  in  the  early  years  of  this 
century  lives  to-day,  and  is  stronger  than  it  has  ever  been,  not- 
withstanding the  efforts  that  have  been  made  to  show  that  it 
is  built  upon  sand.  It  has  been,  and  is  to-day,  an  extremely 
useful  theory.  Whether  it  will  always  continue  to  be  so  is 
another  question,  and  one  that  need  not  bother  us.  It  is  be- 
lieved that  each  elementary  substance  —  that  is  to  say,  each 
chemical  element  —  consists  of  minute  particles  that  are  not 
broken  up  in  the  course  of  chemical  changes.  These  particles 
that  remain  intact  are  the  atoms  of  chemistry.  Some  such  the- 
ory is  absolutely  necessary  to  account  for  the  fundamental  laws 
of  chemistry. 

Into  what  thin  air  we  enter,  when  we  begin  to  speak  of  the 
properties  of  the  individual  atom,  will  appear  when  it  is  stated 
that,  according  to  the  calculations  of  Lord  Kelvin,  the  mole- 
cule of  hydrogen,  which  is  at  least  twice  as  large  as  its  atom,  is 
of.  such  size  that  it  would  take  50,000,000  of  them  placed  in 
a  row  to  occupy  an  inch !  To  be  sure,  most  atoms  are  larger 
than  those  of  hydrogen,  but  there  are  few  so  large  that  it  would 
not  be  necessary  to  have  about  a  million  of  them  to  occupy  an 
inch.  What  sense  is  there  in  talking  about  such  things?  We 
shall  never  be  able  to  see  them,  or  to  prove  that  they  exist. 
True,  but  the  conception  of  the  atom  has  been  of  great  help 
to  chemists,  and,  as  long  as  it  continues  to  be  helpful,  it  will 
be  clung  to. 


UNSOLVED  PROBLEMS  OF  CHEMISTRY       147 

If  tlie  views  held  by  the  majority  of  chemists  are  true,  the 
science  of  chemistry  is  the  science  of  atoms.  The  astronomer 
has  to  deal  with  infinite  distances  and  the  largest  masses  in  the 
universe.  The  chemist,  on  the  other  hand,  has  to  deal  with  the 
shortest  distances  and  the  minutest  particles  of  matter.  The 
astronomer  uses  the  telescope,  but  there  is  no  microscope  that 
can  carry  us  to  the  atom.  The  astronomer  observes  points  of 
light,  follows  their  motions,  and  works  out  the  laws  that  govern 
them.  The  chemist  has  troubles  of  another  kind.  He  cannot  deal 
directly  with  single  atoms.  No  matter  how  small  a  quantity  of 
an  element  he  may  use  in  his  experiment,  he  has  to  deal  with  a 
large  number  of  atoms.  Every  time  he  performs  an  experiment 
millions  of  atoms  come  into  play.  He  studies  his  substances 
before  action  and  after  action.  New  substances  are  formed,  and 
he  concludes  the  atoms  have  arranged  themselves  in  different 
ways.  What  he  knows  is  that  new  substances  with  new  prop- 
erties are  formed.  He  knows  this  whether  atoms  are  realities  or 
not,  but  the  atom  helps  him  to  form  a  picture  of  what  probably 
takes  place  throughout  the  masses  with  which  he  is  dealing.  The 
atoms  are  as  far  removed  from  the  intellectual  gaze  of  the  chemist 
as  the  most  remote  stars  from  the  eye  of  the  astronomer. 

Yet  the  chemist  talks  about  the  way  in  which  atoms  are  com- 
bined with  one  another;  and  he  draws  figures,  and  constructs 
models  to  show  it  all.  And  he  doesn't  do  this  for  his  amuse- 
ment, but  because  he  is  helped  by  it.  He  talks  in  the  language 
of  chemistry,  as  the  mathematician  talks  in  the  language  of 
mathematics.  Some  day  he  will,  no  doubt,  understand  the 
language  better.  Probably  the  language  itself  will  be  changed, 
and  that  which  he  now  uses  will  seem  like  the  prattle  of  an 
infant. 

One  other  side  of  chemistry  must  be  turned  into  view  before 
I  can  close.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  can  make  myself  intelligible 
in  what  I  still  have  to  say,  but  I  shall  try.  Thus  far,  in  what 
has  been  said  about  chemical  acts,  the  material  side  has  been 
kept  in  view.  The  relations  between  the  elements ;  the  artificial 
preparation  of  the  substances  that  enter  into  the  composition 
of  living  things;  the  changes  in  the  composition  of  matter 
at  high  and  at  low  temperatures ;  and,  finally,  the  atom  —  these 
are  the  subjects  dealt  with.  But,  whenever  a  chemical  act  takes 
place,  there  are  changes  in  the  temperature  and  in  the  electrical 


148  MODEKM  i.NVEATlONS 

condition  of  the  substances  involves,  in  addition  to  the  changes 
in  composition.  It  is  while  in  action  that  chemical  substances 
are  most  interesting.  Generally  we  have  to  content  ourselves 
with  observations  before  and  after  an  act,  but  we  should  learn 
a  great  deal  more  about  the  nature  of  the  act,  if  we  could  make 
observations  while  it  is  in  progress.  We  should  find  it  very 
difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  learn  the  law  of  falling  bodies,  if 
we  could  only  observe  bodies  before  and  after  they  have  fallen; 
but  by  observing  them  in  the  act  of  falling  we  can,  without  diffi- 
culty, deduce  the  law. 

Generally  speaking,  chemical  acts  are  so  rapid  that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  make  observations  during  their  course.  Much  progress 
has  been  made  in  this  field  during  the  past  fifteen  or  twenty 
years,  and  some  of  the  great  laws  of  chemical  action  have  been 
discovered.  What  has  been  learned  is,  however,  only  enough  to 
whet  the  appetite  of  chemists.  To  illustrate  in  another  w^ay 
what  is  meant  by  making  observations  during  a  chemical  act, 
let  us  take  the  case  of  gunpowder.  This  usually  consists  of  char- 
coal, sulphur,  and  saltpeter.  A  spark  is  sufficient  to  cause  the 
chemical  act  that  is  accompanied  by  the  explosion.  We  can  col- 
lect everything  that  is  formed,  and  show  what  changes  in  com- 
position have  taken  place.  But  we  should  like  to  know  some- 
thing about  the  act  itself,  and  yet,  plainly,  observations  during 
the  act  cannot  be  numerous,  or  especially  instructive.  And  so 
it  is  with  most  common  chemical  changes  that  are  studied  in 
the  laboratory.  We  get  only  snap-shots  at  them.  If  we  could 
only  get  a  series  of  pictures  at  short  intervals,  we  might,  by  com- 
bining these  afterward,  get  some  idea  of  what  is  taking  place 
during  the  act.  Fortunately,  there  are  ways  of  controlling  cer- 
tain classes  of  chemical  acts  and  reducing  their  speed,  so  that 
observations  can  be  made  during  their  progress;  and  much  has 
been  learned  in  this  way.  Here  is  a  great  field  for  further 
study,  and  it  presents  many  unsolved  problems. 

Finally,  a  few  words  about  water.  It  is  said  that  a  well-known 
chemist  some  years  ago  made  a  bet  that  a  certain  company  of 
chemists  could  not  name  a  chemicRl  subject  that  would  not,  in 
turn,  suggest  to  him  a  profitable  chemical  investigation.  There- 
upon, after  much  deliberation,  the  challensjed  company  suggested 
"  water,'^  on  the  assumption  that  this  has  been  thoroughly  worked 
over,  and  does  not  present  unsolved  problems.    The  result  was  a 


UNSOLVED  PROBLEMS  OF  CHEMISTRY      149 

beautiful  investigation  of  some  of  the  properties  of  water.  Every 
one  knows  that  water  is  the  most  abundant  substance  on  the 
earth.  It  also  plays  a  more  important  part  in  the  changes  that 
are  taking  place  on  the  earth  than  any  other  substance.  We  are 
only  beginning  to  learn  how  it  acts.  That  it  dissolves  many 
things  is  well  known,  but  let  us  not  be  misled  because  this  phe- 
nomenon is  so  common  and  so  familiar.  Put  a  little  salt  in 
water.  What  becomes  of  it?  It  disappears.  There  is  no  solid 
substance  in  the  vessel.  We  may  bandy  phrases  as  we  please,  but 
we  cannot  tell  what  has  become  of  the  salt.  We  can  get  the  salt 
out  of  the  water  by  boiling  the  solution  and  letting  the  water 
pass  off  as  steam,  when  the  salt  will  be  left  behind.  As  we  put 
the  salt  in  and  take  it  out,  we  have  been  accustomed  until  recently 
to  think  of  the  salt  as  being  present  in  the  solution  as  such.  One 
of  the  most  important  advances  in  chemistry  made  of  late  years 
is  that  which  leads  to  the  conception  that,  in  dilute  solutions  at 
least,  there  is  little,  if  any,  salt  present;  that,  in  some  way,  the 
'water  decomposes  it  into  particles  highly  charged  with  electricity. 
These  particles  are  called  ions.  This  idea  has  thrown  a  great 
deal  of  light  upon  important  problems  of  chemistry,  but  it  has 
suggested  many  new  ones.  Some  substances  —  for  example, 
sugar  —  do  not  act  like  salt  when  dissolved  in  water.  Why  this 
difference?  Then,  too,  some  liquids  which  are  good  solvents  do 
not  act  at  all  like  water.  What  is  it  in  water  that  distinguishes 
it  from  most  other  liquids,  such  as  alcohol  and  ether,  enabling 
it  to  tear  many  substances  asunder  ?  These  are  questions  that  are 
now  very  much  to  the  front.  Eapid  progress  is  being  made,  and 
we  may  look  for  important  discoveries  in  this  field  in  the  near 
future. 


150  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF 
PHENOMENA. 

By  W.  STANLEY  JEVONS. 

AS  physical  science  advances,  it  becomes  more  and  more 
accurately  quantitative.  Questions  of  simple  logical  fact 
after  a  time  resolve  themselves  into  questions  of  degree, 
time,  distance  or  weight.  Forces  hardly  suspected  to  exist  by 
one  generation  are  clearly  recognized  by  the  next,  and  precisely 
measured  by  the  third  generation.  But  one  condition  of  this 
rapid  advance  is  the  invention  of  suitable  instruments  of  meas- 
urement. We  need  what  Francis  Bacon  called  Instantice  citantes, 
or  evocantes,  methods  of  rendering  minute  phenomena  percepti- 
ble to  the  senses ;  and  we  also  require  Instantice  radii  or  curriculi, 
that  is,  measuring  instruments.  Accordingly,  the  introduction 
of  a  new  instrument  often  forms  an  epoch  in  the  history  of 
science.  As  Dady  said,  "  Nothing  tends  so  much  to  the  advance- 
ment of  knowledge  as  the  application  of  a  new  instrument.  The 
native  intellectual  powers  of  men  in  different  times  are  not  so 
much  the  causes  of  the  different  success  of  their  labors  as  the 
peculiar  nature  of  the  means  and  artificial  resources  in  their 
possession." 

In  the  absence  indeed  of  advanced  theory  and  analytical  power, 
a  very  precise  instrument  would  be  useless.  Measuring  apparatus 
and  mathematical  theory  should  advance  pari  passu,  and  with 
just  such  precision  as  the  theorist  can  anticipate  results^  the 
experimentalist  should  be  able  to  compare  them  with  experience. 
The  scrupulously  accurate  observations  of  Flamsteed  were  the 
proper  complement  to  the  intense  mathematical  powers  of 
Newton. 

Every  branch  of  knowledge  commences  with  quantitative 
notions  of  a  very  rude  character.  After  we  have  far  progressed, 
it  is  often  amusing  to  look  back  into  the  infancy  of  the  science 
and  contrast  present  with  past  methods.    At  Greenwich  Observa- 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  151 

tory  in  the  present  day  the  hundredth  part  of  a  second  is  not 
thought  an  inconsiderable  portion  of  time.  The  ancient  Chal- 
dseans  recorded  an  eclipse  to  the  nearest  hour,  and  the  early  Alex- 
andrian astronomers  thought  it  superfluous  to  distinguish 
between  the  edge  and  the  center  of  the  sun.  By  the  introduction 
of  the  astrolabe,  Ptolemy  and  the  later  Alexandrian  astronomers 
could  determine  the  places  of  the  heavenly  bodies  within  about 
ten  minutes  of  arc.  Little  progress  then  ensued  for  thirteen 
centuries,  until  Tycho  Brahe  made  the  first  great  step  towards 
accuracy,  not  only  by  employing  better  instruments,  but  even 
more  by  ceasing  to  regard  an  instrument  as  correct.  Tycho,  in 
fact,  determined  the  errors  of  his  instruments,  and  corrected  his 
observations.  He  also  took  notice  of  the  effects  of  atmospheric 
refraction,  and  succeeded  in  attaining  an  accuracy  often  sixty 
times  as  great  as  that  of  Ptolemy.  Yet  Tycho  and  Hevelius  often 
erred  several  minutes  in  the  determination  of  a  starts  place,  and 
it  was  a  great  achievement  of  Eoemer  and  Flamsteed  to  reduce 
this  error  to  seconds.  Bradley,  the  modern  Hipparchus,  carried 
on  the  improvement,  his  errors  in  right  ascension,  according  to 
Bessel,  being  under  one  second  of  time,  and  those  of  declination 
under  four  seconds  of  arc.  In  the  present  day  the  average  error  of 
a  single  observation  is  probably  reduced  to  the  half  or  quarter  of 
what  it  was  in  Bradley's  time;  and  further  extreme  accuracy  is 
attained  by  the  multiplication  of  observations,  and  their  skilful 
combination  according  to  the  theory  of  error.  Some  of  the 
more  important  constants,  for  instance,  that  of  nutation,  have 
been  determined  within  the  tenth  part  of  a  second  of  space. 

It  would  be  a  matter  of  great  interest  to  trace  out  the  depend- 
ence of  this  progress  upon  the  introduction  of-  new  instruments. 
The  astrolabe  of  Ptolemy,  the  telescope  of  Galileo,  the  pendulum 
of  Galileo  and  Huyghens,  the  micrometer  of  Horrocks,  and  the 
telescopic  sights  and  micrometer  of  Gascoygne  and  Picard, 
Eoemer's  transit  instrument,  Xewton's  and  ITadley's  quadrant, 
Dollond's  achromatic  lenses,  Harrison's  chronometer,  and  Eams- 
den's  dividing  engine  —  such  were  some  of  the  principal  addi- 
tions to  astronomical  apparatus.  The  result  is,  that  we  now  take 
note  of  quantities  300,000  or  400,000  times  as  small  as  in  the 
time  of  the  Chaldaeans. 

It  would  be  interesting  again  to  compare  the  scrumilous  accu- 
racy of  a  modern  trigonometrical  survey  with  Eratosthenes'  rude 


152  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

but  ingenious  guess  at  the  difference  of  latitude  between  Alexan- 
dria and  Syene  —  or  with  Norwood's  measurement  of  a  degree  of 
latitude  in  1635.  ^'  Sometimes  I  measured,  sometimes  I  paced," 
said  Norwood;  "and  I  believe  I  am  within  a  scantling  of  the 
truth."  Such  was  the  germ  of  those  elaborate  geodesical  meas- 
urements which  have  made  the  dimensions  of  the  globe  known  to 
us  within  a  few  hundred  yards. 

In  other  branches  of  science,  the  invention  of  an  instrument 
has  usually  marked,  if  it  has  not  made,  an  epoch.  The  science  of 
heat  might  be  said  to  commence  with  the  construction  of  the 
thermometer,  and  it  has  recently  been  advanced  by  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  thermo-electric  pile.  Chemistry  has  been  created 
chiefly  by  the  careful  use  of  the  balance,  which  forms  a  unique 
instance  of  an  instrument  remaining  substantially  in  the  form 
in  which  it  was  first  applied  to  scientific  purposes  by  Archi- 
medes. The  balance  never  has  been  and  probably  never  can  be 
improved,  except  in  details  of  construction.  The  torsion  balance, 
introduced  by  Coulomb  towards  the  end  of  last  century,  has 
rapidly  become  essential  in  many  branches  of  investigation.  In 
the  hands  of  CavendivSh  and  Baily,  it  gave  a  determination  of 
the  earth's  density;  applied  in  the  galvanometer,  it  gave  a  deli- 
cate measure  of  electrical  forces,  and  is  indispensable  in  the 
thermo-electric  pile.  This  balance  is  made  by  simply  suspending 
any  light  rod  b}^  a  thin  wire  or  thread  attached  to  the  middle 
point.  And  we  owe  to  it  almost  all  the  more  .delicate  investiga- 
tions in  the  theories  of  heat,  electricity,  and  magnetism. 

Though  we  can  now  take  note  of  the  millionth  of  an  inch  in 
space,  and  the  millionth  of  a  second  in  time,  we  must  not  over- 
look the  fact  that  in  other  operations  of  science  we  are  yet  in 
the  position  of  the  Chaldseans.  Not  many  years  have  elapsed 
since  the  magnitudes  of  the  stars,  meaning  the  amounts  of  light 
they  send  to  the  observer's  eye,  were  guessed  at  in  the  rudest 
manner,  and  the  astronomer  adjudged  a  star  to  this  or  that  order 
of  magnitude  by  a  rough  comparison  with  other  stars  of  the 
same  order.  To  Sir  John  Herschel  we  owe  an  attempt  to  intro- 
duce a  uniform  method  of  measurement  and  expression,  bear- 
ing some  relation  to  the  real  photometric  magnitudes  of  the 
stars.  Previous  to  the  researches  of  Bunsen  and  Eoscoe  on  the 
chemical  action  of  light,  we  were  devoid  of  any  mode  of  measur- 
ing the  energy  of  light;  even  now  the  methods  are  tedious,  and 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  153 

it  is  not  clear  that  they  give  the  energy  of  light  so  much  as  one 
of  its  special  effects.  Many  natural  phenomena  have  hardly  yet 
been  made  the  subject  of  measurement  at  all,  such  as  the  intensity 
of  sound,  the  phenomena  of  taste  and  smell,  the  magnitude  of 
atoms,  the  temperature  of  the  electric  spark  or  of  the  sun's 
photosphere. 

To  suppose,  then,  that  quantitative  science  treats  only  of 
exactly  measurable  quantities,  is  a  gross,  if  it  be  a  common,  mis- 
take. Whenever  we  are  treating  of  an  event  which  either  hap- 
pens altogether  or  does  not  happen  at  all,  we  are  engaged  with  a 
non-quantitative  phenomenon,  a  matter  of  fact,  not  of  degree; 
but  whenever  a  thing  may  be  greater  or  less,  or  twice  or  thrice  as 
great  as  another,  whenever,  in  short,  ratio  enters  even  in  the 
rudest  manner,  there  science  will  have  a  quantitative  character. 
There  can  be  little  doubt,  indeed,  that  every  science  as  it  pro- 
gresses will  become  gradually  more  and  more  quantitative. 
Numerical  precision  is  the  soul  of  science,  as  Herschel  said,  and 
as  all  natural  objects  exist  in  space,  and  involve  molecular  move- 
ments, measurable  in  velocity  and  extent,  there  is  no  apparent 
limit  to  the  ultimate  extension  of  quantitative  science.  But  tne 
reader  must  not  for  a  moment  suppose  that,  because  we  depend 
more  and  more  upon  mathematical  methods,  we  leave  logical 
methods  behind  us.  '  Number,  as  I  have  endeavored  to  show,  is 
logical  in  its  origin,  and  quantity  is  but  a  development  of  number, 
or  analogous  thereto. 

The  phenomena  of  nature  are  for  the  most  part  manifested 
in  quantities  which  increase  or  decrease  continuously.  When 
we  inquire  into  the  precise  meaning  of  continuous  quantity,  we 
find  that  it  can  only  be  described  as  that  which  is  divisible  with- 
out limit.  W'^e  can  divide  a  millimetre  into  ten,  or  a  hundred,  or 
a  thousand,  or  ten  thousand  parts,  and  mentally  at  any  rate  we 
can  carry  on  the  division  ad  infinitum.  Any  finite  space,  then, 
must  be  conceived  as  made  up  of  an  infinite  number  of  parts  each 
infinitely  small.  We  cannot  entertain  the  simplest  geometrical 
notions  without  allowing  this.  The  conception  of  a  square 
involves  the  conception  of  a  side  and  diagonal,  which,  as  Euclid 
beautifully  proves  in  the  117th  proposition  of  his  tenth  book, 
have  no  common  measure,  meaning  no  finite  common  measure. 
Incommensurable  quantities  are,  in  fact,  those  which  have  for 
their  only  common  measure  an  infinitely  small  quantity.     It  is 


154  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

somewhat  startling  to  find,  too,  that  in  theory  incommensurable 
quantities  will  be  infinitely  more  frequent  than  commensurable. 
Let  any  two  lines  be  drawn  haphazard;  it  is  infinitely  unlikely 
that  they  will  be  commensurable,  so  that  the  commensurable 
quantities,  which  we  are  supposed  to  deal  with  in  practice,  are 
but  singular  cases  among  an  infinitely  greater  number  6f  incom- 
mensurable cases. 

Practically,  however,  we  treat  all  quantities  as  made  up  of  the 
least  quantities  which  our  senses,  assisted  by  the  best  measuring 
instruments,  can  perceive.  So  long  as  microscopes  were  unin- 
vented,  it  was  sufficient  to  regard  an  inch  as  made  up  of  a  thou- 
sand thousandths  of  an  inch ;  now  we  must  treat  it  as  composed 
of  a  million  millionths.  We  might  apparently  avoid  all  mention 
of  infinitely  small  quantities,  by  never  carrying  our  approxima- 
tions beyond  quantities  which  the  senses  can  appreciate.  In 
geometry,  as  thus  treated,  we  should  never  assert  two  quantities 
to  be  equal,  but  only  to  be  apparently  equal.  Legendre  really 
adopts  this  mode  of  treatment  in  the  twentieth  proposition  of 
the  first  book  of  his  Geometry;  and  it  is  practically  adopted 
throughout  the  physical  sciences,  as  we  shall  afterwards  see.  But 
though  our  fingers,  and  senses  and  instruments  must  stop  some- 
where, there  is  no  reason  why  the  mind  should  not  go  on.  We 
can  see  that  a  proof  which  is  only  carried  through  a  few  steps 
in  fact,  might  be  carried  on  without  limit,  and  it  is  this  con- 
sciousness of  no  stopping-place  which  renders  Euclid's  proof  of 
his  117th  proposition  so  impressive.  Try  how  we  will  to  circum- 
vent the  matter,  we  cannot  really  avoid  the  consideration  of  the 
infinitely  small  and  the  infinitely  great.  The  same  methods  of 
approximation  which  seem  confined  to  the  finite,  mentally  extend 
themselves  to  the  infinite. 

One  result  of  these  considerations  is,  that  we  cannot  possibly 
adjust  two  quantities  in  absolute  equality.  The  suspension  of 
Mahomet's  coffin  between  two  precisely  equal  magnets  is  theoreti- 
cally conceivable  but  practically  impossible.  The  story  of  the 
Merchant  of  Venice  turns  upon  the  infinite  improbability 
that  an  exact  quantity  of  flesh  could  be  cut.  Unstable  equilib- 
rium cannot  exist  in  nature,  for  it  is  that  which  is  destroyed  by 
an  infinitely  small  displRcement.  It  might  be  possible  to  balance 
an  egg  on  its  end  practically,  because  no  Qgg  has  a  surface  of 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  155 

perfect  curvature.  Suppose  the  egg  shell  to  be  perfectly  smooth, 
and  the  feat  would  become  impossible. 

I  may  briefly  remind  the  reader  how  little  we  can  trust  to  our 
unassisted  senses  in  estimating  the  degree  or  magnitude  of  any 
phenomenon.  The  eye  cannot  correctly  estimate  the  comparative 
brightness  of  two  luminous  bodies  which  differ  much  in  brill- 
iancy ;  for  we  know  that  the  iris  is  constantly  adjusting  itself  to 
the  intensity  of  the  light  received,  and  thus  admits  more  or  less 
light,  according  to  circumstances.  The  moon  which  shines  with 
alm.ost  dazzling  brightness  by  night  is  pale  and  nearly  imper- 
ceptible while  the  eye  is  yet  affected  by  the  vastly  more  powerful 
light  of  day.  Much  has  been  recorded  concerning  the  compara- 
tive brightness  of  the  zodiacal  light  at  different  times,  but  it 
would  be  difficult  to  prove  that  these  changes  are  not  due  to  the 
varying  darkness  at  the  time,  or  the  different  acuteness  of  the 
observer's  eye.  For  a  like  reason  it  is  exceedingly  difficult  to 
establish  the  existence  of  any  change  in  the  form  or  comparative 
brightness  of  nebula ;  the  appearance  of  a  nebula  greatly  depends 
upon  the  keenness  of  sight  of  the  observer,  or  the  accidental  con- 
dition of  freshness  or  fatigue  of  his  eye.  The  same  is  true  of 
lunar  observations;  and  even  the  use  of  the  best  telescope  fails 
to  remove  this  difficulty.  In  judging  of  colors,  again,  we  must 
remember  that  light  of  any  given  color  tends  to  dull  the  sensi- 
bility of  the  eye  for  light  of  the  same  color. 

Nor  is  the  eye  when  unassisted  by  instruments  of  a  much  better 
judge  of  magnitude.  Our  estimates  of  the  size  of  minute  bright 
points,  such  as  the  fixed  stars,  are  completely  falsified  by  the 
effects  of  irradiation.  Tycho  calculated  from  the  apparent  size 
of  the  star-disks,  that  no  one  of  the  principal  fixed  stars  could  be 
contained  within  the  area  of  the  earth's  orbit.  Apart,  however, 
from  irradiation  or  other  distinct  causes  of  error  our  visual  esti- 
mates of  sizes  and  shapes  are  often  astonishingly  incorrect. 
Artists  almost  invariably  draw  distant  mountains  in  ludicrous 
disproportion  to  nearer  objects,  as  a  comparison  of  a  sketch  with 
a  photograph  at  once  shows.  The  extraordinary  apparent  differ- 
ence of  size  of  the  sun  or  moon,  according  as  it  is  high  in  the 
heavens  or  near  the  horizon,  should  be  sufficient  to  make  us  cau- 
tious in  accepting  the  plainest  indications  of  our  senses,  unas- 
sisted by  instrumental  measurement.  As  to  statements  concern- 
ing the  height  of  the  aurora  and  the  distance  of  meteors,  they 


156  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

are  to  be  utterly  distrusted.  When  Captain  Parry  says  that  a 
ray  of  the  aurora  shot  suddenly  downwards  between  him  and  the 
land,  which  was  only  3,000  yards  distant,  we  must  consider  him 
subject  to  an  illusion  of  sense. 

It  is  true  that  errors  of  observation  are  more  often  errors  of 
judgment  than  of  sense.  That  which  is  actually  seen  must  be 
so  far  truly  seen;  and  if  we  correctly  interpret  the  meaning  of 
the  phenomenon  there  would  be  no  error  at  all.  But  the  weak- 
ness of  the  bare  senses  as  measuring  instruments,  arises  from  the 
fact  that  they  import  varying  conditions  of  unknown  amount, 
and  we  cannot  make  the  requisite  corrections  and  allowances  as 
in  the  case  of  a  solid  and  invariable  instrument. 

Bacon  has  excellently  stated  the  insufficiency  of  the  senses  for 
estimating  the  magnitudes  of  objects,  or  detecting  the  degrees 
in  which  phenomena  present  themselves.  "  Things  escape  the 
senses,^'  he  says,  "  because  the  object  is  not  sufficient  in  quantity 
to  strike  the  sense :  as  all  minute  bodies ;  because  the  percussion 
of  the  object  is  too  great  to  be  endured  by  the  senses:  as  the 
form  of  the  sun  when  looking  directly  at  it  in  mid-day ;  because 
the  time  is  not  proportionate  to  actuate  the  sense :  as  the  motion 
of  a  bullet  in  the  air,  or  the  quick,  circular  motion  of  a  firebrand, 
which  are  too  fast,  or  the  hour-hand  of  a  common  clock,  which 
is  too  slow;  from  the  distance  of  the  object  as  to  place:  as  the 
size  of  the  celestial  bodies,  and  the  size  and  nature  of  all  distant 
bodies;  from  prepossession  by  another  object:  as  one  powerful 
smell  renders  other  smells  in  the  same  room  imperceptible ;  from 
the  interruption  of  interposing  bodies:  as  the  internal  parts  of 
animals;  and  because  the  object  is  unfit  to  make  an  impression 
upon  the  sense :  as  the  air  or  the  invisible  and  untangible  spirit 
which  is  included  in  every  living  body." 

One  remark  which  we  may  well  make  in  entering  upon  quan- 
titative questions,  has  regard  to  the  great  variety  and  extent  of 
phenomena  presented  to  our  notice.  So  long  as  we  deal  only 
with  a  simply  local  question,  that  question  is  merely,  Does  a  cer- 
tain event  happen?  or,  Does  a  certain  object  exist?  No  sooner 
do  we  regard  the  event  or  object  as  capable  of  more  and  less,  than 
the  question  branches  out  into  many.  We  must  now  ask,  How 
much  is  it  compared  with  its  cause?  Does  it  change  when  the 
amount  of  the  cause  changes?  If  so,  does  it  change  in  the  same 
or  opposite  direction  ?    Is  the  change  in  simple  proportion  to  that 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  157 

of  the  cause  ?  If  not,  what  more  complex  law  of  connection  holds 
true  ?  This  law  determined  satisfactorily  in  one  series  of  circum- 
stances may  be  varied  under  new  conditions,  and  the  most  com- 
plex relations  of  several  quantities  may  ultimately  be  established. 
In  every  question  of  physical  science  there  is  thus  a  series  of 
steps,  the  first  one  or  two  of  which  are  usually  made  with  ease, 
while  the  succeeding  ones  demand  more  and  more  careful  meas- 
urement. We  cannot  lay  down  any  invariable  series  of  questions 
which  must  be  asked  from  nature.  The  exact  character  of  the 
questions  will  vary  according  to  the  nature  of  the  case,  but  they 
will  usually  be  of  an  evident  kind,  and  we  may  readily  illustrate 
them  by  examples.  Suppose  that  we  are  investigating  the  solution 
of  some  salt  in  water.  The  first  is  a  purely  logical  question :  Is 
there  solution,  or  is  there  not?  Assuming  the  answer  to  be  in 
the  affirmative,  we  next  inquire,  Does  the  solubility  vary  with 
the  temperature,  or  not?  In  all  probability  some  variation  will 
exist,  and  we  must  have  an  answer  to  the  further  question.  Does 
the  quantity  dissolved  increase,  or  does  it  diminish  with  the  tem- 
perature? In  by  far  the  greater  number  of  .cases  salts  and 
substances  of  all  kinds  dissolve  more  freely  in  the  higher  tempera- 
ture of  the  water ;  but  there  are  a  few  salts,  such  as  calcium  sul- 
phate, which  follow  the  opposite  rule.  A  considerable  number  of 
salts  resemble  sodium  sulphate  in  becoming  more  soluble  up  to  a 
certain  temperature,  and  then  varying  in  the  opposite  direction. 
We  next  require  to  assign  the  amount  of  variation,  as  compared 
with  that  of  the  temperature,  assuming  at  first  that  the  increase 
of  solubility  is  proportional  to  the  increase  of  temperature.  Com- 
mon salt  is  an  instance  of  very  slight  variation,  and  potassium 
nitrate  of  very  considerable  increase  with  temperature.  Accurate 
observations  will  probably  show,  however,  that  "the  simple  law  of 
proportionate  variation  is  only  approximately  true,  and  some 
more  complicated  law  involving  the  second,  third,  or  higher  pow- 
ers of  the  temperature  may  ultimately  be  established.  All  these 
investigations  have  to  be  carried  out  for  each  salt  separately, 
since  no  distinct  principles  by  which  we  may  infer  from  one 
substance  to  another  have  yet  been  detected.  There  is  still  an 
indefinite  field  for  further  research  open;  for  the  solubility  of 
salts  will  probably  vary  with  the  pressure  under  which  the 
medium  is  placed ;  the  presence  of  other  salts  already  dissolved 
may  have  effects  yet  unknown.    The  researches  already  effected  as 


158  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

regards  the  solvent  power  of  water  must  be  repeated  with  alcohol, 
ether,  carbon  bisulphide,  and  other  media,  so  tliat  unless  general 
laws  can  be  detected,  this  one  phenomenon  of  solution  can  never 
be  exhaustively  treated.  The  same  kind  of  questions  recur  as 
regards  the  solution  or  absorption  of  gases  in  liquids,  the  pressure 
as  well  as  the  temperature  having  then  a  most  decided  effect, 
and  Professor  Roscoe's  researches  on  the  subject  present  an  excel- 
lent example  of  the  successive  determination  of  various  compli- 
cated laws. 

There  is  hardly  a  branch  of  physical  science  in  which  simi- 
lar complications  are  not  ultimately  encountered.  In  the  case  of 
gravity,  indeed,  we  arrive  at  the  final  law,  that  the  force  is  the 
same  for  all  kinds  of  matter,  and  varies  only  with  the  distance 
of  action.  But  in  other  subjects  the  laws,  if  simple  in  their  ulti- 
mate nature,  are  disguised  and  complicated  in  their  apparent 
results.  Thus  the  effect  of  heat  in  expanding  solids,  and  the 
reverse  effect  of  forcible  extension  or  compression  upon  the  tem- 
perature of  a  body,  will  vary  from  one  substance  to  another, 
will  vary  as  the  temperature  is  already  higher  or  lower,  and  will 
probably  follow  a  highly  complex  law,  which  in  some  cases  gives 
negative  or  exceptional  results.  In  crystalline  substances  the 
same  researches  have  to  be  repeated  in  each  distinct 
axial  direction. 

In  the  sciences  of  pure  observation,  such  as  those  of  astronomy, 
meteorology  and  terrestrial  magnetism,  we  meet  with  many  inter- 
esting series  of  quantitative  determinations.  The  so-called  fixed 
stars,  as  Giordano  Bruno  divined,  are  not  really  fixed,  and  may 
be  more  truly  described  as  vast,  wandering  orbs,  each  pursuing 
its  own  path  through  space.  We  must  then  determine  separately 
for  each  star  the  following  questions: — 

1.  Does  it  move? 

2.  In  what  direction? 

3.  At  what  velocity  ? 

4.  Is  this  velocity  variable  or  uniform? 

5.  If  variable,  according  to  what  law? 

6.  Is  the  direction  uniform? 

7.  If  not,  what  is  the  form  of  the  apparent  path? 

8.  Does  it  approach  or  recede  ? 

9.  What  is  the  form  of  the  real  path? 

The  successive  answers  to  such  questions  in  the  case  of  certain 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  159 

binary  stars  have  afforded  a  proof  that  the  motions  are  due  to  a 
central  force  coinciding  in  law  with  gravity,  and  doubtless  iden- 
tical with  it.  In  other  cases  the  motions  are  usually  so  small  that 
it  is  exceedingly  difficult  to  distinguish  them  with  certainty. 
And  the  time  is  yet  far  off  when  any  general  results  as  regards 
stellar  motions  can  be  established. 

The  variation  in  the  brightness  of  stars  opens  an  unlimited 
field  for  curious  observation.  There  is  not  a  star  in  the  heavens 
concerning  which  we  might  not  have  to  determine : — 

1.  Does  it  vary  in  brightness? 

2.  Is  the  brightness  increasing  or  decreasing? 

3.  Is  the  variation  uniform  ? 

4.  If  not,  according  to  what  law  does  it  vary? 

In  a  majority  of  cases  the  change  will  probably  be  found  to 
have  a  periodic  character,  in  which  case  several  other  questions 
will  arise,  such  as : — 

5.  What  is  the  length  of  the  period? 

6.  Are  there  minor  periods? 

7.  What  is  the  law  of  variation  within  the  period  ? 

8.  Is  there  any  change  in  the  amount  of  variation  ? 

9.  If  so,  is  it  a  secular,  i.  e.,  a  continually  growing  change,  or 
does  it  give  evidence  of  a  greater  period? 

Already  the  periodic  changes  of  a  certain  number  of  stars  have 
been  determined  with .  accuracy,  and  the  lengths  of  the  periods 
vary  from  less  than  three  days  up  to  intervals  of  time  at  least 
250  times  as  great.  Periods  within  periods  have  also  been 
detected. 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  subject  in  which  more  complicated  quan- 
titative conditions  have  to  be  determined  than  terrestrial  mag- 
netism. Since  the  time  when  the  declination  of  the  compass 
was  first  noticed,  as  some  suppose  by  Columbus,  we  have  had 
successive  discoveries  from  time  to  time  of  the  progressive  change 
of  declination  from  century  to  century ;  of  the  periodic  character 
of  this  change;  of  the  difference  of  the  declination  in  various 
parts  of  the  earth's  surface ;  of  the  varying  laws  of  the  change 
of  declination;  of  the  dip  or  inclination  of  the  needle,  and  the 
corresponding  laws  of  its  periodic  changes;  the  horizontal  and 
perpendicular  intensities  have  also  been  the  subject  of  exact 
measurement,  and  have  been  found  to  vary  with  place  and  time, 
like   the   directions   of  the  needle;   daily  and  yearly  periodic 


160  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

changes  have  also  been  detected,  and  all  the  elements  are  found 
to  be  subject  to  occasional  storms  or  abnormal  perturbations,  in 
which  the  eleven-year  period,  now  known  to  be  common  to  many 
planetary  relations,  is  apparent.  The  complete  solution  of  these 
motions  of  the  compass  needle  involves  nothing  less  than  a  deter- 
mination of  its  position  and  oscillations  in  every  part  of  the 
world  at  any  epoch,  the  like  determination  for  another  epoch, 
and  so  on,  time  after  time,  until  the  periods  of  all  changes  are 
ascertained.  This  one  subject  offers  to  men  of  science  an  almost 
inexhaustible  field  for  interesting  quantitative  research,  in  which 
we  shall  doubtless  at  some  future  time  discover  the  operation 
of  causes  now  most  mysterious  and  unaccountable. 

In  studying  the  modes  by  which  physicists  have  accomplished 
very  exact  measurements,  we  find  that  they  are  very  various, 
but  that  they  may  perhaps  be  reduced  under  the  following  three 
classes : — 

1.  The  increase  or  decrease,  in  some  determinate  ratio,  of  the 
quantity  to  be  measured,  so  as  to  bring  it  within  the  scope  of 
our  senses,  and  to  equate  it  with  the  standard  unit,  or  some  deter- 
minate multiple  or  sub-multiple  of  this  unit. 

2.  The  discovery  of  some  natural  conjunction  of  events  which 
will  enable  us  to  compare  directly  the  multiples  of  the  quantity 
with  those  of  the  unit,  or  a  quantity  related  in  a  definite  ratio  to 
that  unit. 

3.  Indirect  measurement,  which  gives  us  not  the  quantity 
itself,  but  some  other  quantity  connected  with  it  by  known  mathe- 
matical relations. 

Several  conditions  are  requisite  in  order  that  a  measurement 
may  be  made  with  great  accuracy,  and  that  the  results  may  be 
closely  accordant  when  several  independent  measurements  are 
made. 

In  the  first  place  the  magnitude  must  be  exactly  defined  by 
sharp  terminations,  or  precise  marks  of  inconsiderable  thick- 
ness. When  a  boundary  is  vague  and  graduated,  like  the  penum- 
bra in  a  lunar  eclipse,  it  is  impossible  to  say  where  the  end  really 
is,  and  different  people  will  come  to  different  results.  We  may 
sometimes  overcome  this  difficulty  to  a  certain  extent  by  observa- 
tions repeated  in  a  special  manner,  as  we  shall  afterwards  see; 
but  when  possible,  we  should  choose  opportunities  for  measure- 
ment when  precise  definition  is  easy.    The  moment  of  occultation 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  IGl 

of  a  star  by  the  moon  can  be  observed  with  great  accuracy, 
because  the  star  disappears  with  perfect  suddenness;  but  there 
are  other  astronomical  conjunctions,  eclipses,  transits,  etc.,  which 
occupy  a  certain  length  of  time  in  happening,  and  thus  open  the 
way  to  differences  of  opinion.  It  would  be  impossible  to  observe 
with  precision  the  movements  of  a  body  possessing  no  definite 
points  of  reference.  The  colors  of  the  complete  spectrum  shade 
into  each  other  so  continuously  that  exact  determinations  of 
refractive  indices  would  have  been  impossible,  had  we  not  the 
dark  lines  of  the  solar  spectrum  as  precise  points  for  measure- 
ment, or  various  kinds  of  homogeneous  light,  such  as  that  of 
sodium,  possessing  a  nearly  uniform  length  of  vibration. 

In  the  second  place,  we  cannot  measure  accurately  unless  we 
have  the  means  of  multiplying  or  dividing  a  quantity  without 
considerable  error,  so  that  we  may  correctly  equate  one  magni- 
tude with  the  multiple  or  submultiple  of  the  other.  In  some 
cases  we  operate  upon  the  quantity  to  be  measured,  and  bring  it 
into  accurate  coincidence  with  the  actual  standard,  as  when  in 
photometry  we  vary  the  distance  of  our  luminous  body,  until  its 
illuminating  power  at  a  certain  point  is  equal  to  that  of  a  stand- 
ard lamp.  In  other  cases  we  repeat  the  unit  until  it  equals  the 
object,  as  in  surveying  land,  or  determining  a  weight  by  the  bal- 
ance. The  requisites  of  accuracy  now  are: — (1)  That  we  can 
repeat  unit  after  unit  of  exactly  equal  magnitude;  (2)  that  these 
can  be  joined  together  so  that  the  aggregate  shall  really  be  the 
sum  of  the  parts.  The  same  conditions  apply  to  subdivision, 
which  may  be  regarded  as  a  multiplication  of  subordinate  units. 
In  order  to  measure  to  the  thousandth  of  an  inch,  we  must  be 
able  to  add  thousandth  after  thousandth  without  error  in  the 
magnitude  of  these  spaces,  or  in  their  conjunction. 

To  consider  the  mechanical  construction  of  scientific  instru- 
ments is  no  part  of  my  purpose  here.  I  wish  to  point  out  merely 
the  general  purpose  of  such  instruments,  and  the  methods  adopted 
to  carry  out  that  purpose  with  great  precision.  In  the  first  place 
we  must  distinguish  between  the  instrument  which  effects  a  com- 
parison between  two  quantities,  and  the  standard  magnitude 
which  often  forms  one  of  the  quantities  compared.  The  astrono- 
mer's clock,  for  instance,  is  no  standard  of  the  efflux  of  time;  it 
serves  but  to  suhclivide,  with  approximate  accuracy,  the  interval 
of  successive  passages  of  a  star  across  the  meridian,  which  it 


162  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

may  effect  perhaps  to  the  tenth  part  of  a  second,  or  1-864,000 
part  of  the  whole.  The  moving  globe  itself  is  the  real  standard 
clock,  and  the  transit  instrument  the  finger  of  the  clock,  while 
the  stars  are  the  hour,  minute  and  second  marks,  none  the  less 
accurate  because  they  are  disposed  at  unequal  intervals.  The 
photometer  is  a  simple  instrument,  hy  which  we  compare  the  rel- 
ative intensity  of  rays  of  light  falling  upon  a  given  spot.  The 
galvanometer  shows  the  comparative  intensity  of  electric  currents 
passing  through  a  wire.  The  calorimeter  gauges  the  quantity  of 
heat  passing  from  a  given  object.  But  no  such  instruments  fur- 
nish the  standard  unit  in  terms  of  which  our  results  are  to  be 
expressed.  In  one  peculiar  case  alone  does  the  same  instrument 
combine  the  unit  of  measurement  and  the  means  of  comparison. 
A  theodolite,  mural  circle,  sextant,  or  other  instrument  for  the 
measurement  of  angular  magnitudes  has  no  need  of  an  additional 
physical  unit ;  for  the  circle  itself,  or  complete  revolution,  is  the 
natural  unit  to  which  all  greater  or  lesser  amounts  of  angular 
magnitude  are  referred. 

The  result  of  every  measurement  is  to  make  known  the  purely 
numerical  ratio  existing  between  the  magnitude  to  be  measured 
and  a  certain  other  magnitude,  which  should,  when  possible, 
be  a  fixed  unit  or  standard  magnitude,  or  at  least  an  interme- 
diate unit  of  which  the  value  can  be  ascertained  in  terms  of  the 
ultimate  standard.  But  though  a  ratio  is  the  required  result,  an 
equation  is  the  mode  in  which  the  ratio  is  determined  and 
expressed.  In  every  measurement  we  equate  some  multiple  or 
submultiple  of  one  quantity,  with  some  multiple  or  submultiple 
of  another,  and  equality  is  always  the  fact  which  we  ascertain 
by  the  senses.  By  the  eye,  the  ear  or  the  touch  we  judge  whether 
there  is  a  discrepancy  or  not  between  two  lights,  two  sounds^  two 
intervals  of  time,  two  bars  of  metal.  Often  indeed  we  substitute 
one  sense  for  the  other,  as  when  the  efflux  of  time  is  judged  by 
the  marks  upon  a  moving  slip  of  paper,  so  that  equal  intervals 
of  time  are  represented  by  equal  lengths.  There  is  a  tendency 
to  reduce  all  comparisons  to  the  comparison  of  space  magnitudes, 
but  in  every  case  one  of  the  senses  must  be  the  ultimate  judge 
of  coincidence  or  non-coincidence. 

Since  the  equation  to  be  established  may  exist  between  any 
multiples  or  submultiples  of  the  quantities  compared,  there  nat- 
urally arise  several  different  modes  of  comparison  adapted  to 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  163 

different  cases.    Let  p  be  the  magnitude  to  be  measured  and  q 
that  in  terms  of  which  it  is  to  be  expressed.     Then  we  wish  to 

X 

find  such  numbers  x  and  y,  that  the  equation  p  =  —  q  may  be 

y 

true.    This  equation  may  be  presented  in  four  forms,  namely : — ■ 


'irst  Form. 

Second  Form. 

Third  Form. 

Fourth  Form. 

X 
P  =  -q 

y 

y 

p-^q 

X 

py  =  qx 

P  _P 
X    y 

Each  of  these  modes  of  expressing  the  same  equation  corresponds 
to  one  mode  of  effecting  a  measurement. 

When  the  standard  quantity  is  greater  than  that  to  be  meas- 
ured, we  often  adopt  the  first  mode,  and  subdivide  the  unit  until 
we  get  a  magnitude  equal  to  that  measured.  The  angles  observed 
in  surveying,  in  astronomy,  or  in  goniometry  are  usually  smaller 
than  a  whole  revolution,  and  the  measuring  circle  is  divided  by 
the  use  of  the  screw  and  microscope,  until  we  obtain  an  angle 
undistinguishable  from  that  observed.  The  dimensions  of  minute 
objects  are  determined  by  subdividing  the  inch  or  centimetre,  the 
screw  micrometer  being  the  most  accurate  means  of  subdivision. 
Ordinary  temperatures  are  estimated  by  division  of  the  stand- 
ard interval  between  the  freezing  and  boiling  points  of  water,  as 
marked  on  a  thermometer  tube. 

In  a  still  greater  number  of  cases,  perhaps,  we  multiply  the 
standard  unit  until  we  get  a  magnitude  equal  to  that  to  be  meas- 
ured. Ordinary  measurement  by  a  foot  rule,  a  surve3^or's  chain, 
or  the  excessively  careful  measurements  of  a  base  line  of  a  trig- 
onometrical survey  by  standard  bars,  are  sufficient  instances  of 
this  procedure.   •  •   -  , 

y 

In  the  second  case,  where  p  —  =  ^>  we  multiply  or  divide  a 

X 

magnitude  until  we  get  what  is  equal  to  the  unit,  or  to  some 
magnitude  easily  comparable  with  it.  As  a  general  rule  the 
quantities  which  we  desire  to  measure  in  physical  science  are  too 
small  rafer  than  too  great  for  easy  determination,  and  the  prob- 
lem cozam-sfes  in  multiplyins^  them  without  introducins^  error. 
Tiuis  tfoe  ^es  pansioji  of  a  metallic  bar  when  heated  from.  Q  degree 


164  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

Centigrade  to  100  degrees  may  be  multiplied  by  a  train  of  levers 
or  cog  wheels.  In  the  common  thermometer  the  expansion  of 
the  mercury,  thought  slight,  is  rendered  very  apparent,  and  easily 
measurable  by  the  fineness  of  the  tube,  and  many  other  cases 
might  be  quoted.  There  are  some  phenomena,  on  the  contrary, 
which  are  too  great  or  rapid  to  come  within  the  easy  range  of 
our  senses,  and  our  task  is  then  the  opposite  one  of  diminution. 
Galileo  found  it  difficult  to  measure  the  velocity  of  a  falling 
body,  owing  to  the  considerable  velocity  acquired  in  a  single  sec- 
ond. He  adopted  the  elegant  device,  therefore,  of  lessening  the 
rapidity  by  letting  the  body  roll  down  an  inclined  plane,  which 
enables  us  to  reduce  the  accelerating  force  in  any  required  ratio. 
The  same  purpose  is  effected  in  the  well-known  experiments  per- 
formed on  Attwood^s  machine,  and  the  measurement  of  gravity 
by  the  pendulum  really  depends  on  the  same  principle  applied 
in  a  far  more  advantageous  manner.  Wheatstone  invented  a 
beautiful  method  of  galvanometry  for  strong  currents,  which 
consists  in  drawing  off  from  the  main  current  a  certain  deter- 
minate portion,  which  is  equated  by  the  galvanometer  to  a  stand- 
ard current.  In  short,  he  measures  not  the  current  itself,  but  a 
known  fraction  of  it. 

In  many  electrical  and  other  experiments,  we  wish  to  measure 
the  movements  of  a  needle  or  other  body,  which  are  not  only  very 
slight  in  themselves,  but  the  manifestations  of  exceedingly  small 
forces.  We  cannot  even  approach  a  delicately  balanced  needle 
without  disturbing  it.  Under  these  circumstances  the  only  mode 
of  proceeding  with  accuracy  is  to  attach  a  very  small  mirror  to 
the  moving  body,  and  employ  a  ray  of  light  reflected  from  the' 
mirror  as  an  index  of  its  movements.  The  ray  may  be  considered 
quite  incapable  of  affecting  the  body,  and  3^et  by  allowing  the  ray 
to  pass  to  a  sufficient  distance,  the  motions  of  the  mirror  may 
be  increased  to  almost  any  extent.  A  ray  of  light  is,  in  fact,  a 
perfectly  weightless  finger  or  index  of  indefinite  length,  with  the 
additional  advantage  that  the  angular  deviation  is  by  the  law 
of  reflection  double  that  of  the  mirror.  This  method  was  intro- 
duced by  Gauss,  and  is  now  of  great  importance ;  but  in  Wollas- 
ton's  reflecting  goniometer  a  ray  of  lieht  had  previously  been 
employed  as  an  index.  Lavoisier  and  Laplace  had  also  used  a 
telescope  in  connection  with  the  p5^rometer. 

It  is  a  great  advantage  in  some  instruments  that  they  can  be 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  165 

readily  made  to  manifest  a  phenomenon  in  a  greater  or  less 
degree,  by  a  very  slight  change  in  the  construction.  Thus,  either 
by  enlarging  the  bulb  or  contracting  the  tube  of  the  thermometer, 
we  can  make  it  give  more  conspicuous  indications  of  change  of 
temperature.  The  ordinary  barometer,  on  the  other  hand,  always 
gives  the  variations  of  pressure  on  one  scale.  The  torsion  balance 
is  remarkable  for  the  extreme  delicacy  which  may  be  attained 
by  increasing  the  length  and  lightness  of  the  rod,  and  the  length 
and  thinness  of  the  supporting  thread.  Forces  so  minute  as  the 
attraction  of  gravitation  between  two  balls,  or  the  magnetic  and 
diamagnetic  attraction  of  common  liquids  and  gases,  may  thus 
be  made  apparent,  and  even  measured.  The  common  chemical 
balance,  too,  is  capable  theoretically  of  unlimited  sensibility. 

The  third  mode  of  measurement,  which  may  be  called  the 
Method  of  Eepetition,  consists  in  multiplying  both  magnitudes  to 
be  compared  until  some  multiple  of  the  first  is  found  to  coincide 
very  nearly  with  some  multiple  of  the  second.  If  the  multipli- 
cation can  be  effected  to  an  unlimited  extent,  without  the  intro- 
duction of  countervailing  errors,  the  accuracy  with  which  the 
required  ratio  can  be  determined  is  unlimited,  and  we  thus 
account  for  the  extraordinary  precision  with  which  intervals  of 
time  in  astronomy  are  compared  together. 

The  fourth  mode  of  measurement,  in  which  we  equate  sub- 
multiples  of  two  magnitudes,  is  comparatively  seldom  employed, 
because  it  does  not  conduce  to  accuracy.  In  the  photometer,  per- 
haps, we  may  be  said  to  use  it ;  we  compare  the  intensity  of 
two  sources  of  light,  by  placing  them  both  at  such  distances  from 
a  given  surface,  that  the  light  falling  on  the  surface  is  tolerable 
to  the  eye,  and  equally  intense  from  each  source.  Since  the 
intensity  of  light  varies  inversely  as  the  square  of  the  distance, 
the  relative  intensities  of  the  luminous  bodies  are  proportional  to 
the  squares  of  their  distances.  The  equal  intensity  of  two  rays 
of  similarly  colored  light  may  be  most  accurately  ascertained  in 
the  mode  suggested  by  Arago,  namely,  by  causing  the  raj^s  to  pass 
in  opposite  directions  through  two  nearly  fiat  lenses  pressed 
together.  There  is  an  exact  equation  between  the  intensities  of 
the  beams  when  Xewton's  rings  disappear,  the  ring  created  by 
one  ray  being  exactly  the  complement  of  that  created  by  the 
other. 

The  ratio  of  two  quantities  can  be  determined  with  unlimited 


166  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

accuracy,  if  we  can  multiply  both  the  object  of  measurement 
and  the  standard  unit  without  error,  and  then  observe  what  mul- 
tiple of  the  one  coincides,  or  nearly  coincides,  with  some  multiple 
of  the  other.  Although  perfect  coincidence  can  never  be  really 
attained,  the  error  thus  arising  may  be  indefinitely  reduced. 
For  if  the  equation  yy  =  qx  be  uncertain  to  the  amount  e^  so 

X         e 
that  P2/  =  2^  +  ^^  "^^6^  we  have  'P  =  q 1 ,  and  as  we  are 

y      y 

supposed  to  be  able  to  make  y  as  great  as  we  like  without  increas- 
ing the  error  e,  it  follows  that  we  can  make  e  -^  ^  as  small  as  we 
like,  and  thus  approximate  within  an  inconsiderable  quantity  ta 
the  required  ratio  x-^y. 

This  method  of  repetition  is  naturally  employed  whenever 
quantities  can  be  repeated,  or  repeat  themselves,  without  error 
of  juxtaposition,  which  is  especially  the  case  with  the  motions 
of  the  earth  and  heavenly  bodies.  In  determining  the  length  of 
the  sidereal  day,  we  determine  the  ratio  between  the  earth's  revo- 
lution round  the  sun,  and  its  rotation  on  its  own  axis.  We  might 
ascertain  the  ratio  by  observing  the  successive  passages  of  a  star 
across  the  zenith,  and  comparing  the  interval  by  a  good  clock 
with  that  between  two  passages  of  the  sun,  the  difference  being 
due  to  the  angular  movement  of  the  earth  round  the  sun.  In 
such  observations  we  should  have  an  error  of  a  considerable  part 
of  a  second  at  each  observation,  in  addition  to  the  irregularities 
of  the  clock.  But  the  revolutions  of  the  earth  repeat  themselves 
day  after  day,  and  year  after  year,  without  the  slightest  inter- 
val between  the  end  of  one  period  and  the  beginning  of  another. 
The  operation  of  multiplication  is  perfectly  perfonned  for  us  by 
nature.  If,  then,  we  can  find  an  observation  of  the  passage  of  a 
star  across  the  meridian  a  hundred  years  ago,  that  is,  of  the 
interval  of  time  between  the  passage  of  the  sun  and  the  star, 
the"  instrumental  errors  in  measuring  this  interval  by  a  clock  and 
telescope  may  be  greater  than  in  the  present  day,  but  will  be 
divided  by  about  36,524  days,  and  rendered  excessively  small. 
It  is  thus  that  astronomers  have  been  able  to  ascertain  the  ratio 
of  the  mean  solar  to  the  sidereal  day  to  the  8th  place  of  decimals 
(1  .00273791  to  1),  or  to  the  hundred  millionth  part,  probably 
the  most  accurate  result  of  measurement  in  the  whole  range  of 
science. 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  167 

The  antiquit}^  of  this  mode  of  comparison  is  almost  as  great 
as  that  of  astronomy  itself.  Hijoparcims  made  the  first  clear 
application  of  it,  when  he  compared  his  own  observations  with 
those  of  Aristarchus,  made  145  years  previously,  and  thus  ascer- 
tained the  length  of  the  year.  This  calculation  may,  in  fact, 
be  regarded  as  the  earliest  attempt  at  an  exact  determination  of 
the  constants  of  nature.  The  method  is  the  main  resource  of 
astronomers;  Tycho,  for  instance,  detected  the  slow  diminution 
of  the  obliquity  of  the  earth's  axis,  by  the  comparison  of  observa- 
tions at  long  intervals.  Living  astronomers  use  the  method  as 
much  as  earlier  ones ;  but  so  superior  in  accuracy  are  all  observa- 
tions ta4ven  during  the  last  hundred  years  to  all  previous  ones 
that  it  is  often  found  preferable  to  take  a  shorter  interval,  rather 
than  incur  the  risk  of  greater  instrumental  errors  in  the  earlier 
observations. 

It  is  obvious  that  many  of  the  slower  changes  of  the  heavenly 
bodies  must  require  the  lapse  of  large  intervals  of  time  to  render 
their  amount  perceptible.  Hipparchus  could  not  possibly  have 
discovered  the  smaller  inequalities  of  the  heavenly  motions, 
because  there  were  no  previous  observations  of  sufficient  age  or 
exactness  to  exhibit  them.  And  just  as  the  observations  of  Hip- 
parchus formed  the  starting  point  for  subsequent  comparisons, 
so  a  large  part  of  the  labor  of  present  astronomers  is  directed 
to  recording  the  present  state  of  the  heavens  so  exactly  that 
future  generations  of  astronomers  may  detect  changes,  which 
cannot  possibly  become  known  in  the  present  age. 

The  principle  of  repetition  was  very  ingeniously  employed  in 
an  instrument  first  proposed  by  Mayer  in  1767,  and  carried  into 
practice  in  the  Eepeating  Circle  of  Borda.  The  exact  measure- 
ment of  angles  is  indispensable,  not  only  in  .astronomy,  but  also 
in  trigonometrical  surveys,  and  the  highest  skill  in  the  mechan- 
ical execution  of  the  graduated  circle  and  telescope  will  not  pre- 
vent terminal  errors  of  considerable  amount.  If  instead  of  one 
telescope  the  circle  be  provided  with  two  similar  telescopes,  these 
may  be  alternately  directed  to  two  distant  points,  say,  the  marks 
in  a  trigonometrical  survey,  so  that  the  circle  shall  be  turned 
through  any  multiple  of  the  angle  subtended  by  those  marks, 
before  the  amount  of  the  ana^ular  revolution  is  read  off  upon  the 
graduated  circle.  Theoretically  speaking^,  all  error  arising  from 
imperfect  graduation  might  thus  be  indefinitely  reduced,  being 


16S  "MODERN  INVENTIONS 

divided  by  the  number  of  repetitions.  In  practice,  the  advantage 
of  the  invention  is  not  found  to  be  very  great,  probably  because  a 
certain  error  is  introduced  at  each  observation  in  the  changing 
and  fixing  of  the  telescopes.  It  is,  moreover,  inapplicable  to 
moving  objects,  like  the  heavenly  bodies,  so  that  its  use  is  con- 
fined to  important  trigonometrical  surveys. 

The  pendulum  is  the  most  perfect  of  all  instruments,  chiefly 
because  it  admits  of  almost  endless  repetition.  Since  the  force 
of  gravity  never  ceases,  one  swing  of  the  pendulum  is  no  sooner 
ended  than  the  other  is  begun,  so  that  the  juxtaposition  of  suc- 
cessive units  is  absolutely  perfect.  Provided  that  the  oscillations 
be  equal,  one  thousand  oscillations  will  occupy  exactly  one  thou- 
sand times  as  great  an  interval  of  time  as  one  oscillation.  Not 
only  is  the  subdivision  of  time  entirely  dependent  on  this  fact, 
but  in  the  .accurate  measurement  of  gravity,  and  many  other 
important  determinations,  it  is  of  the  greatest  service.  In  the 
deepest  mine  we  could  not  observe  the  rapidity  of  fall  of  a  body 
for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  minute,  and  the  measurement  of 
its  velocity  would  be  difficult  and  subject  to  uncertain  errors 
from  resistance  of  air,  etc.  In  the  pendulum  we  have  a  body 
which  can  be  kept  rising  and  falling  for  many  hours,  in  a  medium 
entirely  under  our  command,  or  if  desirable  in  a  vacuum.  More- 
over, the  comparative  force  of  gravity  at  different  points,  at  the 
top  and  bottom  of  a  mine,  for  instance,  can  be  determined  with 
wonderful  precision  by  comparing  the  oscillations  of  two  exactly 
similar  pendulums  with  the  aid  of  electric  clock  signals. 

To  ascertain  the  comparative  times  of  vibration  of  two  pendu- 
lums, it  is  only  requisite  to  swing  them  one  in  front  of  the  other, 
to  record  by  a  clock  the  moment  when  they  coincide  in  swing,  so 
that  one  hides  the  other,  and  then  count  the  number  of  vibrations 
until  they  again  come  to  coincidence.  If  one  pendulum  makes  m 
vibrations  and  the  other  n,  we  at  once  have  our  equation  pn  = 
qm;  which  gives  the  lengt,h  of  vibration  of  either  pendulum  in 
terms  of  the  other.  This  method  of  coincidence,  embodying  the 
principle  of  repetition  in  perfection,  was  employed  with  won- 
derful skill  by  Sir  George  Airy,  in  his  experiments  on  the  Density 
of  the  Earth  at  the  Hart  on  Colliery,  the  pendulums  above  and 
below  being  compared  with  clocks,  which  again  were  compared 
with  each  other  by  electric  signals.  So  exceedingly  accurate  was 
this  method  of  observation,  as  carried  out  by  Sir  George   Airy. 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  IGD 

that  he  was  able  to  measure  a  total  difference  in  the  vibrations  at 
the  top  and  bottom  of  the  shaft,  amounting  to  only  2  .24  seconds 
in  the  twenty-four  hours,  with  an  error  of  less  than  one  hun- 
dredth part  of  a  second,  or  one  part  in  8,640,000  of  the  whole 
day. 

The  principle  of  repetition  has  been  elegantly  applied  in 
observing  the  motion  of  waves  in  water.  If  the  canal  in  which 
the  experiments  are  made  be  short,  say,  tw^enty  feet  long,  the 
waves  will  pass  through  it  so  rapidly  that  an  observation  of  one 
length,  as  practiced  b}^  Walker,  will  be  subject  to  much  ter- 
minal error,  even  when  the  observer  is  very  skilful.  But  it  is  a 
result  of  the  undulatory  theory  that  a  wave  is  unaltered,  and 
loses  no  time  by  complete  reflection,  so  that  it  may  be  allowed 
to  travel  backwards  and  forwards  in  the  same  canal,  and  its 
motion,  say,  through  sixty  lengths,  or  1,200  feet,  may  be  observed 
with  the  same  accuracy  as  in  a  canal  1,200  feet  long,  with  the 
advantage  of  greater  uniformity  in  the  condition  of  the  canal 
and  water.  It  is  always  desirable,  if  possible,  to  bring  an  experi- 
ment into  a  small  compass,  so  that  it  may  be  well  under  com- 
mand, and  yet  we  may  often  by  repetition  enjoy  at  the  same  time 
the  advantage  of  extensive  trial. 

One  reason  of  the  great  accuracy  of  weighing  with  a  good  bal- 
ance is  the  fact  that  weights  placed  in  the  same  scale  are  natu- 
rally added  together  .without  the  slightest  error.  There  is  no 
difficulty  in  the  precise  juxtaposition  of  two  grammes,  but  the 
juxtaposition  of  two  metre  measures  can  only  be  effected 
with  tolerable  accuracy  by  the  use  of  microscopes  and  many  pre- 
cautions. Hence  the  extreme  trouble  and  cost  attaching  to  the 
exact  measurement  of  a  base  line  for  a  survey,  the  risk  of  error 
entering  at  every  juxtaposition  of  the  measuring  bars,  and  inde- 
fatigable attention  to  all  the  requisite  precautions  being  neces- 
sary throughout  the  operation. 

In  certain  cases  a  peculiar  conjunction  of  circumstances  ena- 
bles us  to  dispense  more  or  less  with  instrumental  aids,  and  to 
obtain  very  exact  numerical  results  in  the  simplest  manner.  The 
mere  fact,  for  instance,  that  no  human  being  has  ever  seen  a 
different  face  of  the  moon  from  that  familiar  to  us,  conclusively 
proves  that  the  period  of  rotation  of  the  moon  on  its  own  axis 
is  equal  to  that  of  its  revolution  round  the  earth.  Not  only  have 
we  the  repetition  of  these  movements  during  1,000  or  2,000  years 


170  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

at  least,  but  we  have  observations  made  for  us  at  very  remote 
periods,  free  from  instrumental  error,  no  instrument  being 
needed.  We  learn  that  the  seventh  satellite  of  Saturn  is  subject 
to  a  similar  law,  because  its  light  undergoes  a  variation  in  each 
revolution,  owing  to  the  existence  of  some  dark  tract  of  land; 
now  this  failure  of  light  always  occurs  while  it  is  in  the  same 
position  relative  to  Saturn,  clearly  proving  the  equality  of  the 
axial  and  revolutional  periods,  as  Huygens  perceived.  A  like 
peculiarity  in  the  motions  of  Jupiter's  fourth  satellite  was  simi- 
larly detected  by  Maraldi  in  1713. 

Eemarkable  conjunctions  of  the  planets  may  sometimes  allow 
us  to  compare  their  periods  of  revolution,  through  great  intervals 
of  time,  with  much  accuracy.  Laplace  in  explaining  the  long 
inequality  in  the  motions  of  Jupiter  and  Saturn,  was  assisted  by 
a  conjunction  of  these  planets,  observed  at  Cairo,  towards  the 
close  of  the  eleventh  century.  Laplace  calculated  that  such  a 
conjunction  must  have  happened  on  the  31st  of  October,  A.  D. 
1087;  and  the  discordance  between  the  distances  of  the  planets 
as  recorded  and  as  assigned  by  theory,  was  less  than  one-fifth  part 
of  the  apparent  diameter  of  the  sun.  This  difference  being  less 
than  the  probable  error  of  the  early  record,  the  theory  was  con- 
firmed, as  far  as  facts  were  available. 

Ancient  astronomers  often  showed  the  highest  ingenuity  in 
turning  any  opportunities  of  measurement  which  occurred  to 
good  account.  Eratosthenes,  as  early  as  250  B.  C,  happening 
to  hear  that  the  sun  at  Syene,  in  Upper  Egypt,  was  visible  at 
the  summer  solstice  at  the  bottom  of  a  well,  proving  that  it  was 
in  the  zenith,  proposed  to  determine  the  dimensions  of  the  earth 
by  measuring  the  length  of  the  shadow  of  a  rod  at  Alexandria  on 
the  same  day  of  the  year.  He  thus  learned  in  a  rude  manner  the 
difference  of  latitude  between  Alexandria  and  Syene  and  finding 
it  to  be  about  one-fiftieth  part  of  the  whole  circumference,  he 
ascertained  the  dimensions  of  the  earth  within  about  one-sixth 
part  of  the  truth.  The  use  of  wells  in  astronomical  observation 
appears  to  have  been  occasionally  practiced  in  comparatively 
recent  times,  as  by  Flamsteed  in  1679.  The  Alexandrian  astron- 
omers employed  the  moon  as  an  instrument  of  measurement  in 
several  sagacious  modes.  When  the  moon  is  exactly  half  full,  the 
moon,  sun  and  earth  are  at  the  angles  of  a  right-angled  triangle. 
Aristarchus  measured  at  such  a  time  the  moon's  elongation  from 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  171 

the  sun,  which  gave  him  the  two  other  angles  of  the  triangle,  and 
enabled  him  to  judge  of  the  comparative  distances  of  the  moon 
and  sun  from  the  earth.  His  result,  though  very  rude,  was  far 
more  accurate  than  any  notions  previously  entertained,  and  ena- 
bled him  to  form  some  estimate  of  the  comparative  magnitudes 
of  the  bodies.  Eclipses  of  the  moon  were  very  useful  to  Hippar- 
chus  in  ascertaining  the  longitude  of  the  stars,  which  are  invisi- 
ble when  the  sun  is  above  the  horizon.  For  the  moon  when 
eclipsed  must  be  180°  distant  from  the  sun;  hence  it  is  only 
requisite  to  measure  the  distance  of  a  fixed  star  in  longitude 
from  the  eclipsed  moon  to  obtain  with  ease  its  triangular  distance 
from  the  sun. 

In  later  times  the  eclipses  of  Jupiter  have  served  to  measure 
an  angle;  for  at  the  middle  moment  of  the  eclipse  the  satellite 
must  be  in  the  same  straight  line  with  the  planet  and  sun,  so  that 
we  can  learn  from  the  known  laws  of  movement  of  the  satellite 
the  longitude  of  Jupiter  as  seen  from  the  sun.  If  at  the  same 
time  we  measure  the  elongation  or  apparent  angular  distance  of 
Jupiter  from  the  sun,  as  seen  from  the  earth,  we  have  all  the 
angles  of  the  triangle  between  Jupiter,  the  sun,  and  the  earth, 
and  can  calculate  the  comparative  magnitudes  of  the  sides  of 
the  triangle  by  trigonometry. 

The  transits  of  Venus  over  the  sun's  face  are  other  natural 
events  which  give  most  accurate  measurements  of  the  sun's  paral- 
lax, or  apparent  difference  of  position  as  seen  from  distant  points 
of  the  earth's  surface.  The  sun  forms  a  kind  of  background  on 
which  the  place  of  the  planet  is  marked,  and  serves  as  a  measur- 
ing instrument  free  from  all  the  errors  of  construction  which 
affect  human  instruments.  The  rotation  of  the  earth,  too,  by 
variously  affecting  the  apparent  velocity  of  ingress  or  egress 
of  Venus,  as  seen  from  different  places,  discloses  the  amount  of 
the  parallax.  It  has  been  sufficiently  shown  that  by  rightly  choos- 
ing the  moments  of  observation  the  planetary  bodies  may  often 
be  made  to  reveal  their  relative  distance,  to  measure  their  own 
position,  to  record  their  own  movements  with  a  high  degree  of 
accuracy.  With  the  improvement  of  astronomical  instruments, 
such  conjunctions  become  less  necessary  to  the  progress  of 
the  science,  but  it  will  always  remain  advantageous  to  choose 
those  moments  for  observation  when  instrumental  errors  enter 
with  the  least  effect. 


172  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

In  other  sciences,  exact  quantitative  laws  can  occasionally  be 
obtained  without  instrumental  measurement^  as  when  we  learn 
the  exactly  equal  velocity  of  sounds  of  different  pitch,  by  ob- 
serving  that  a  peal  of  bells  or  a  musical  performance  is  heard 
harmoniously  at  any  distance  to  which  the  sound  penetrates ;  this 
could  not  be  the  case,  as  Newton  remarked,  if  one  sound  over- 
took the  other.  One  of  the*  most  important  principles  of  the 
atomic  theory  was  proved  by  implication  before  the  use  of  the 
balance  was  introduced  into  chemistry.  Wenzel  observed,  before 
1777,  that  when  two  neutral  substances  decompose  each  other, 
the  resulting  salts  are  also  neutral.  In  mixing  sodium  sulphate 
and  barium  nitrate,  we  obtain  insoluble  barium  sulphate  and 
neutral  sodium  nitrate.  This  result  could  not  follow  unless  the 
nitric  acid,  requisite  to  saturate  one  atom  of  sodium,  were  ex- 
actly equal  to  that  required  by  one  atom  of  barium,  so  that  an 
exchange  could  take  place  without  leaving  either  acid  or  base  in 
excess. 

An  important  principle  of  mechanics  may  also  be  established 
by  a  simple  acoustical  observation.  When  a  rod  or  tongue  of 
metal  fixed  at  one  end  is  set  in  vibration,  the  pitch  of  the  sound 
may  be  observed  to  be  exactly  the  same,  whether  the  vibrations 
be  small  or  great;  hence  the  oscillations  are  isochronous,  or 
equally  rapid,  independently  of  their  magnitude.  On  the  ground 
of  theory,  it  can  be  shown  that  such  a  result  only  happens  when 
the  flexure  is  proportional  to  the  deflecting  force.  Thus  the 
simple  observation  that  the  pitch  of  the  sound  of  a  harmonium, 
for  instance,  does  not  change  with  its  loudness  establishes  an 
exact  law  of  nature. 

A  closely  similar  instance  is  found  in  the  proof  that  the  in- 
tensity of  light  or  heat  rays  varies  inversely  as  the  square  of  the 
distance  increases.  For  the  apparent  magnitude  certainly  varies 
according  to  this  law;  hence,  if  the  intensity  of  light  varied 
according  to  any  other  law,  the  brightness  of  an  object  would 
be  different  at  different  distances,  which  is  not  observed  to  be  the 
case.  Melloni  applied  the  same  kind  of  reasoning,  in  a  some- 
what different  form,  to  the  radiation  of  heat-rays. 

Some  of  the  most  conspicuously  beautiful  experiments  in  the 
whole  range  of  science,  have  been  devised  for  the  purpose  of 
indirectly  measuring  quantities,  which  in  their  extreme  great- 
ness or  smallness  surpass  the  powers  of  sense.     All  that  we   need 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  173 

to  do,  is  to  discover  some  other  conveniently  measurable  phe- 
nomenon, which  is  related  in  a  known  ratio  or  according  to  a 
known  law,  however  complicated,  with  that  to  be  measured. 
Having  once  obtained  experimental  data,  there  is  no  further 
difficulty  beyond  that  of  arithmetic  or  algebraic  calculation. 

Gold  is  reduced  by  the  gold-beater  to  leaves  so  thin  that  the 
most  powerful  microscope  would  not  detect  any  measurable  thick- 
ness. If  we  laid  several  hundred  leaves  upon  each  other 
to  multiply  the  thickness,  we  should  still  have  no  more  than 
1,100th  of  an  inch  at  the  most  to  measure,  and  the  errors  arising 
in  the  superposition  and  measurement  would  be  considerable. 
But  we  can  readily  obtain  an  exact  result  through  the  connected 
amount  of  weight.  Faraday  weighed  2,000  leaves  of  gold,  each 
3%  inch  square,  and  found  them  equal  to  384  grains.  From 
the  known  specific  gravity  of  gold  it  was  easy  to  calculate  that 
the  average  thickness  of  the  leaves  was  1-282,000  of  an  inch. 

We  must  ascribe  to  Newton  the  honor  of  leading  the  way  in 
methods  of  minute  measurement.  He  did  not  call  waves  of 
light  by  their  right  name,  and  did  not  understand  their  nature; 
yet  he  measured  their  length,  though  it  did  not  exceed  the 
2,000,000th  part  of  a  meter  or  the  one  fifty-thousandth  part  of 
an  inch.  He  pressed  together  two  lenses  of  large  but  known 
radii.  It  was  easy  to  calculate  the  interval  between  the  lenses 
at  any  point,  by  measuring  the  distance  from  the  central  point 
of  contact.  Now,  with  homogeneous  rays  the  successive  rings 
of  light  and  darkness  mark  the  points  at  which  the  interval 
between  the  lenses  is  equal  to  one-half,  or  any  multiple  of  half 
a  vibration  of  the  light,  so  that  the  length  of  the  vibration  be- 
came known.  In  a  similar  manner  many  phenomena  of  inter- 
ference of  rays  of  light  admit  of  the  measurement  of  the  wave 
lengths.  Fringes  of  interference  arise  from  rays  of  light  which 
cross  each  other  at  a  small  angle,  and  an  excessively  minute  dif- 
ference in  the  lengths  of  the  waves  make  a  very  perceptible  dif- 
ference in  the  position  of  the  point  at  which  two  rays  will  inter- 
fere and  produce  darkness. 

Fizeau  has  recently  employed  Newton's  rings  to  measure  small 
amounts  of  motion.  By  merely  counting  the  number  of  rings  of 
sodium  monochromatic  light  passing  a  certain  point  where  two 
glass  plates  are  in  close  proximity,  he  is  able  to  ascertain  with 
the  greatest  accuracy  and  ease  the  change  of  distance  between 


174  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

these  glasses,  produced,  for  instance,  by  the  expansion  of  a 
metallic  bar,  connected  with  one  of  the  glass  plates. 

Nothing  excites  more  admiration  than  the  mode  in  which 
scientific  observers  can  occasionally  measure  quantities,  which 
seem  beyond  the  bounds  of  human  observation.  We  know  the 
average  depth  of  the  Pacific  Ocean  to  be  14,190  feet,  not  by 
actual  sounding,  which  would  be  impracticable  in  sufficient  de- 
tail, but  by  noticing  the  rate  of  transmission  of  earthquake  waves 
from  the  South  American  to  the  opposite  coasts,  the  rate  of 
movement  being  connected  by  theory  with  the  depth  of  the 
water.  In  the  same  way  the  average  depth  of  the  Atlantic 
Ocean  is  inferred  to  be  no  less  than  22,157  feet,  from  the  velocity 
of  the  ordinary  tidal  waves.  A  tidal  wave  again  gives  beautiful 
evidence  of  an  effect  of  the  law  of  gravity,  which  we  could 
never  in  any  other  way  detect.  Newton  estimated  that  the 
moon's  force  in  moving  the  ocean  is  only  one  part  in  2,871,400 
of  the  whole  force  of  gravity,  so  that  even  the  pendulum,  used 
with  the  utmost  skill,  would  fail  to  render  it  apparent.  Yet,  the 
immense  extent  of  the  ocean  allows  the  accumulation  of  the 
effect  into  a  very  palpable  amount;  and  from  the  comparative 
heights  of  the  lunar  and  solar  tides,  Newton  roughly  estimated 
the  comparative  forces  of  the  moon's  and  sun's  gravity  at  the 
earth. 

A  few  years  ago  it  might  have  seemed  impossible  that  we 
should  ever  measure  the  velocity  with  which  a  star  approaches 
or  recedes  from  the  earth,  since  the  apparent  position  of  the  star 
is  thereby  unaltered.  But  the  spectroscope  now  enables  us  to 
detect  and  even  measure  such  motions  with  considerable  ac- 
curacy, by  the  alteration  which  it  causes  in  the  apparent  rapidity 
of  vibration,  and  consequently  in  the  refrangibility  of  rays  of 
light  of  definite  color.  And  while  our  estimates  of  the  lateral 
movements  of  stars  depend  upon  our  very  uncertain  knowledge 
of  their  distances,  the  spectroscope  gives  the  motions  of  approach 
and  recess  irrespective  of  other  motions  excepting  that  of  the 
earth.  It  gives  in  short  the  motions  of  approach  and  recess  of 
the  stars  relatively  to  the  earth. 

The  rapidity  of  vibration  for  each  musical  tone,  having  been 
accurately  determined  by  comparison  with  the  Siren,  we  can 
use  sounds  as  indirect  indications  of  rapid  vibrations.  It  is  now 
known  that  the  contraction  of  a  muscle  arises  from  the  period- 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  175 

ical  contractions  of  each  separate  fibre,  and  from  a  faint  sound  or 
susurrus  wliich  accompanies  the  action  of  a  muscle,  it  is  inferred 
that  each  contraction  lasts  for  about  one  300th  part  of  a  second. 
Minute  quantities  of  radiant  heat  are  now  always  measured  in- 
directly by  the  electricity  which  they  produce  when  falling  upon 
a  thermopile.  The  extreme  delicacy  of  the  method  seems  to  be 
due  to  the  power  of  multiplication  at  several  points  in  the  ap- 
paratus. The  number  of  elements  or  junctions  of  different 
metals  in  the  thermopile  can  be  increased  so  that  the  tension  of 
the  electric  current  derived  from  the  same  intensity  of  radiation 
is  multiplied ;  the  effect  of  the  current  upon  the  magnetic  needle 
can  be  multiplied  within  certain  bounds,  by  passing  the  current 
many  times  round  it  in  a  coil;  the  excursions  of  the  needle  can 
be  increased  by  rendering  it  astatic  and  increasing  the  delicacy 
of  its  suspension ;  lastly,  the  angular  divergence  can  be  observed, 
with  any  required  accuracy,  by  the  use  of  an  attached  mirror 
and  distant  scale  viewed  through  a  telescope.  Such  is  the  deli- 
cacy of  this  method  of  measuring  heat,  that  Dr.  Joule  succeeded 
in  making  a  thermopile  which  would  indicate  a  difference  of 
0°.000114  Centigrade. 

A  striking  case  of  indirect  measurement  is  furnished  by  the 
revolving  mirror  of  Wheatstone  and  Foucault,  whereby  a  minute 
interval  of  time  is  estimated  in  the  form  of  an  angular  devia- 
tion. Wheatstone  viewed  an  electric  spark  in  a  mirror  rotating 
so  rapidly,  that  if  the  duration  of  the  spark  had  been  more  than 
one  72,000th  part  of  a  second,  the  point  of  light  would  have  ap- 
peared elongated  to  an  angular  extent  of  one-half  degree.  In 
the  spark,  as  drawn  directly  from  a  Leyden  jar,  no  elongation 
was  apparent,  so  that  the  duration  of  the  spark  was  immeasur- 
ably small;  but  when  the  discharge  took  place  through  a  bad 
conductor,  the  elongation  of  the  spark  denoted  a  sensible  dura- 
tion. In  the  hands  of  Foucault  the  rotating  mirror  gave  a 
measure  of  the  time  occupied  by  light  in  passing  through  a  few 
metres  of  space. 

In  almost  every  case  a  measuring  instrument  serves,  and 
should  serve  only  as  a  means  of  comparison  between  two  or 
more  magnitudes.  As  a  general  rule,  we  should  not  attempt  to 
make  the  divisions  of  the  measuring^  scale  exact  multiples  or  sub- 
multiples  of  the  unit,  but,  regarding  them  as  arbitrary  marks, 
should  determine  their  values  by  comparison  with  the  standard 


176  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

itself.  The  perpendicular  wires  in  the  field  of  a  transit  tele- 
scope, are  fixed  at  nearly  equal  but  arbitrary  distances,  and  those 
distances  are  afterwards  determined,  as  first  suggested  by  Mal- 
vasia,  by  watching  the  passage  of  star  after  star  across  them, 
and  noting  the  intervals  of  time  by  the  clock.  Owing  to  the 
perfectly  regular  motion  of  the  earth,  these  time  intervals  give 
exact  determinations  of  the  angular  intervals.  In  the  same  way, 
the  angular  value  of  each  turn  of  the  screw  micrometer  attached 
to  a  telescope,  can  be  easily  and  accurately  ascertained. 

When  a  thermopile  is  used  to  observe  radiant  heat,  it  would 
be  almost  impossible  to  calculate  on  a  priori  grounds  what  is  the 
value  of  each  division  of  the  galvanometer  circle,  and  still  more 
difficult  to  construct  a  galvanometer,  so  that  each  division  should 
have  a  given  value.  But  this  is  quite  unnecessary,  because  by 
placing  the  thermopile  before  a  body  of  known  dimensions,  at  a 
known  distance,  with  a  known  temperature  and  radiating  power, 
we  measure  a  known  amount  of  radiant  heat,  and  inversely 
measure  the  value  of  the  indications  of  the  thermopile.  In  a- 
similar  way  Dr.  Joule  ascertained  the  actual  temperature  pro- 
duced by  the  compression  of  bars  of  metal.  For  having  inserted 
a  small  thermopile  composed  of  a  single  junction  of  copper  and 
iron  wire,  and  noted  the  deflections  of  the  galvanometer,  he  had 
only  to  dip  the  bars  into  water  of  different  temperatures,  until 
he  produced  a  like  deflection,  in  order  to  ascertain  the  tempera- 
ture developed  by  pressure. 

In  some  cases  we  are  obliged  to  accept  a  very  carefully  con- 
structed instrument  as  a  standard,  as  in  the  case  of  a  standard 
barometer  or  thermometer.  But  it  is  then  best  to  treat  all  in- 
ferior instruments  comparatively  only,  and  determine  the  values 
of  their  scales  by  comparison  with  the  assumed  standard. 

When  a  large  number  of  accurate  measurements  have  to  be 
effected,  it  is  usually  desirable  to  make  a  certain  number  of 
determinations  with  scrupulous  care,  and  afterwards  use  them 
as  points  of  reference  for  the  remaining  determinations.  In  the 
trigonometrical  survey  of  a  country,  the  principal  triangulation 
fixes  the  relative  positions  and  distances  of  a  few  points  with 
rigid  accuracy.  A  minor  triangulation  refers  every  prominent 
hill  or  village  to  one  of  the  principal  points,  and  then  the  details 
are  filled  in  by  reference  to  the  secondary  points.  The  survey 
of  the  heavens  is  effected  in  a  like  manner.    The  ancient  astrono- 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  177 

mers  compared  the  right  ascensions  of  a  few  principal  stars  with 
the  moon,  and  thus  ascertained  their  positions  with  regard  to  the 
sun;  the  minor  stars  were  afterwards  referred  to  the  principal 
stars.  Tycho  followed  the  same  method,  except  that  he  used 
the  more  slowly  moving  planet  Venus  instead  of  the  moon. 
Flamsteed  was  in  the  habit  of  using  about  seven  stars,  favorably 
situated  at  points  all  round  the  heavens.  In  his  early  observa- 
tions the  distances  of  the  other  stars  from  these  standard  points 
Avere  determined  by  the  use  of  the  quadrant.  Even  since  the 
introduction  of  the  transit  telescope  and  the  mural  circle,  tables 
of  standard  stars  are  formed  at  Greenwich,  the  positions  being 
determined  with  all  possible  accuracy,  so  that  they  can  be  em- 
ployed for  purposes  of  reference  by  astronomers. 

In  ascertaining  the  specific  gravities  of  substances,  all  gases 
are  referred  to  atmospheric  air  at  a  given  temperature  and  pres- 
sure ;  all  liquids  and  solids  are  referred  to  water.  We  require  to 
compare  the  densities  of  water  and  air  with  great  care,  and  the 
comparative  densities  of  any  two  substances  whatever  can  then 
be  ascertained. 

In  comparing  a  very  great  with  a  very  small  magnitude,  it  is 
usually  desirable  to  break  up  the  process  into  several  steps,  using 
intermediate  terms  of  comparison.  We  should  never  think  of 
measuring  the  distance  from  London  to  Edinburgh  by  laying 
down  measuring  rods,  throughout  the  whole  length.  A  base  of 
several  miles  is  selected  on  level  ground,  and  compared  on  the 
one  hand  with  the  standard  yard,  and  on  the  other  with  the 
distance  of  London  and  Edinburgh,  or  any  other  two  points,  by 
trigonometrical  survey.  Again,  it  would  be  exceedingly  difficult 
to  compare  the  light  of  a  star  with  that  of  the  sun,  which  would 
be  about  thirty  thousand  million  times  greater;  but  Herschel 
effected  the  comparison  by  using  the  full  moon  as  an  inter- 
mediate unit.  Wollaston  ascertained  that  the  sun  gave  801,072 
times  as  much  light  as  the  full  moon,  and  Herschel  determined 
that  the  light  of  the  latter  exceeded  that  of  a  Centauri  27,408 
times,  so  that  we  find  the  ratio  between  the  light  of  the  sun  and 
star  to  be  that  of  about  22,000,000,000  to  1. 

By  far  the  most  perfect  and  beautiful  of  all  instruments  of 
measurement  is  the  pendulum.  Consisting  merely  of  a  heavy 
body  suspended  freely  at  an  invariable  distance  from  a  fixed 
point,  it  is  most  simple  in  construction ;  yet  all  the  highest  prob- 


178  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

lems  of  physical  measurement  depend  upon  its  careful  use.  Its 
excessive  value  arises  from  two  circumstances. 

(1)  The  method  of  repetition  is  eminently  applicable  to  it, 
as  already  described. 

(2)  Unlike  other  instruments,  it  connects  together  three  dif- 
ferent quantities,  those  of  space,  time,  and  force. 

In  most  works  on  natural  philosophy  it  is  shown,  that  when 
the  oscillations  of  the  pendulum  are  infinitely  small,  the  square 
of  the  time  occupied  by  an  oscillation  is  directly  proportional  to 
the  length  of  the  pendulum,  and  indirectly  proportional  to  the 
force  affecting  it,  of  whatever  kind.  The  whole  theory  of  the 
pendulum  is  contained  in  the  formula,  first  given  by  Huygens  in 
his  Horologium  Oscillatorium. 

Time  of  oscillation  ==3.14159     /  length  of  pendulum 

v  force. 

The  quantity  3.14159  is  the  constant  ratio  of  the  circumfer- 
ence and  radius  of  a  circle,  and  is  of  course  known  with  accuracy. 
Hence,  any  two  of  the  three  quantities  concerned  being  given, 
the  third  may  be  found;  or  any  two  being  maintained  invariable, 
the  third  will  be  invariable.  Thus  a  pendulum  of  invariable 
length  suspended  at  the  same  place,  where  the  force  of  gravity 
may  be  considered  constant,  furnishes  a  measure  of  time.  The 
same  invariable  pendulum  being  made  to  vibrate  at  different 
points  of  the  earth's  surface,  and  the  times  of  vibration  being 
astronomically  determined,  the  force  of  gravity  becomes  accu- 
rately known.  Finally,  with  a  known  force  of  gravity,  and  time 
of  vibration  ascertained  by  reference  to  the  stars,  the  length  is 
determinate. 

All  astronomical  observations  depend  upon  the  first  manner 
of  using  the  pendulum,  namely,  in  the  astronomical  clock.  In 
the  second  employment  it  has  been  almost  equally  indispensable. 
The  primary  principle  that  gravity  is  equal  in  all  matter  was 
proved  by  Newton's  and  Gauss'  pendulum  experiments.  The 
torsion  pendulum  of  Michell,  Cavendish,  and  Baily,  depending 
upon  exactly  the  same  principles  as  the  ordinary  pendulum,  gave 
the  density  of  the  earth,  one  of  the  foremost  natural  constants. 
Kater  and  Sabine,  by  pendulum  observations  m  different  parts  of 
the  earth,  ascertained  the  variation  of  gravity,  whence  comes  a 
determination  of  the  earth's  ellipticity.    The  laws  of  electric  and 


THE  EXACT  MEASUREMENT  OF  PHENOMENA  179 

magnetic  attraction  have  also  been  determined  by  the  method 
of  vibrations,  which  is  in  constant  use  in  the  measurement  of  the 
horizontal  force  of  terrestrial  magnetism. 

We  must  not  confuse  with  the  ordinary  use  of  the  pendulmn 
its  application  by  Xewton,  to  show  the  absence  of  internal  fric- 
tion against  space,  or  to  ascertain  the  laws  of  motion  and  elas- 
ticity. In  these  cases  the  extent  of  vibration  is  the  quantity 
measured,  and  the  principles  of  the  instrument  are  different. 

It  is  a  matter  of  some  interest  to  compare  the  degrees  of  ac- 
curacy which  can  be  attained  in  the  measurement  of  different 
kinds  of  magnitude.  Few  measurements  of  any  kind  are  exact 
to  more  than  six  significant  figures,  but  it  is  seldom  that  such 
accuracy  can  be  hoped  for.  Time  is  the  magnitude  which  seems 
to  be  capable  of  the  most  exact  estimation,  owing  to  the  proper- 
ties of  the  pendulum,  and  the  principle  of  repetition  described 
in  previous  sections. 

As  regards  short  intervals  of  time,  it  has  already  been  stated 
that  Sir  George  Airy  was  able  to  estimate  one  part  in  8,640,000, 
an  exactness,  as  he  truly  remarks,  "  almost  beyond  conception." 
The  ratio  between  the  mean  solar  and  the  sidereal  day  is  known 
to  be  about  one  part  in  one  hundred  millions,  or  to  the  eighth 
place  of  decimals. 

Determinations  of  weight  seem  to  come  next  in  exactness, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  repetition  without  error  is  applicable  to 
them.  An  ordinary  good  balance  should  show  about  one  part 
in  500,000  of  the  load.  The  finest  balance  employed  by  M.  Stas, 
turned  with  one  part  in  825,000  of  the  load.  But  balances  have 
certainly  been  constructed  to  show  one  part  in  a  million,  and 
Ramsden  is  said  to  have  constructed  a  balance  for  the  Eoyal 
Society,  to  indicate  one  part  in  seven  millions,  though  this  is 
hardly  credible.  Professor  Clerk  Maxwell  takes  it  for  granted 
that  one  part  in  five  millions  can  be  detected,  but  we  ought  to 
discriminate  between  what  a  balance  can  do  when  first  con- 
structed, and  when  in  continuous  use. 

Determinations  of  len^h,  unless  performed  with  extraordi- 
nary care,  are  open  to  much  error  in  the  junction  of  the  measur- 
ing bars.  Even  in  measuring  the  base  line  of  a  trigonometrical 
survey,  the  accuracy  generally  attained  is  only  that  of  about 
one  part  in  60,000,  or  an  inch  in  the  mile ;  but  it  is  said  that  in 
four  measurements  of  a  base  line  carried  out  very  recently  at 


180  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

Cape  Comorin,  the  greatest  error  was  0.077  inch  in  1.68  mile,  or 
one  part  in  1,382,400,  an  almost  incredible  degree  of  accuracy. 
Sir  J.  Whitworth  has  shown  that  touch  is  every  a  more  delicate 
mode  of  measuring  lengths  than  sight,  and  by  means  of  a  splen- 
didly executed  screw,  and  a  small  cube  of  iron  placed  between 
two  flat-ended  iron  bars,  so  as  to  be  suspended  when  touching 
them,  he  can  detect  a  change  of  dimension  in  a  bar,  amounting 
to  no  more  than  one-millionth  of  an  inch. 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OF  MEASUREMENT  181 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OF   MEAS- 
UREMENT. 

By  W.  STANLEY  JEVONS. 

AS  we  have  seen,  instruments  of  measurement  are  onlj' 
means  of  comparison  between  one  magnitude  and  an- 
other, and  as  a  general  rule  we  must  assume  some  one 
arbitrary  magnitude,  in  terms  of  which  all  results  of  measure- 
ment are  to  be  expressed.  Mere  ratios  between  any  series  of  ob- 
jects will  never  tell  us  their  absolute  magnitudes;  we  must  have 
at  least  one  ratio  for  each,  and  we  must  have  one  absolute  mag- 
nitude. The  number  of  ratios  n  are  expressible  in  n  equations, 
which  will  contain  at  least  n-\-  1  quantities,  so  that  if  we  em- 
ploy them  to  make  known  n  magnitudes,  we  must  have  one  mag- 
nitude known.  Hence,  whether  we  are  measuring  time,  space, 
density,  mass,  weight  energy,  or  any  other  physical  quantity, 
we  must  refer  to  some  concrete  standard,  some  actual  object, 
which  if  once  lost  and  irrecoverable,  all  our  measures  lose  their 
absolute  meaning.  This  concrete  standard  is  in  all  cases  arbi- 
trary in  point  of  theory,  and  its  selection  a  question  of  practical 
convenience. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  magnitude,  indeed,  which  do  not  need 
to  be  expressed  in  terms  of  arbitrary  concrete  units,  since  they 
pre-suppose  the  existence  of  natural  standard  units.  One  case  is 
that  of  abstract  number  itself,  which  needs  no  special  unit,  be- 
cause any  object  which  exists  or  is  thought  of  as  separate .  from 
other  objects  furnishes  us  with  a  unit,  and  is  the  only  standard 
required. 

Angular  magnitude  is  the  second  case  in  which  we  have  a 
natural  unit  of  reference,  namely  the  whole  revolution  or  peri- 
gon,  as  it  has  been  called  by  Mr.  Sandeman.  It  is  a  neces- 
sary result  of  the  uniform  properties  of  space,  that  all  complete 
revolutions  are  equal  to  each  other,  so  that  we  need  not  select 
any  one  revolution,  but  can  always  refer  anew  to  space  itself. 


182  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

Whether  we  take  the  whole  perigon,  its  half,  or  its  quarter,  is 
really  immaterial;  Euclid  took  the  right  angle,  because  the 
Greek  geometers  had  never  generalized  their  notions  of  angular 
magnitude  sufficiently  to  treat  angles  of  all  magnitudes,  or  of 
unlimited  quantity  of  revolution.  Euclid  defines  a  right  angle 
as  half  that  made  by  a  line  with  its  own  continuation,  which 
is  of  course  equal  to  half  a  revolution,  but  which  was  not  treated 
as  an  angle  by  him.  In  mathematical  analysis  a  different  frac- 
tion of  the  perigon  is  taken,  namely,  such  a  fraction  that  the 
arc  or  portion  of  the  circumference  included  within  it  is  equal 
to  the  radius  of  the  circle.  In  this  point  of  view  angular  mag- 
nitude is  an  abstract  ratio,  namely,  the  ratio  between  the  length 
of  arc  subtended  and  the  length  of  the  radius.  The  geometrical 
unit  is  then  necessarily  the  angle  corresponding  to  the  ratio 
unity.  This  angle  is  equal  to  about  57°,  17',  44". 8,  or  decimally 
57°.295779513.  ...  It  was  called  by  De  Morgan  the  arcual 
unit,  but  a  more  convenient  name  for  common  use  would  be 
radian,  as  suggested  "by  Professor  Everett.  Though  this  stand- 
ard angle  is  naturally  employed  in  mathematical  analysis,  and 
any  other  unit  would  introduce  great  complexity,  v/e  must  not 
look  upon  it  as  a  distinct  unit,  since  its  amount  is  connected 
with  that  of  the  half  perigon,  by  the  natural  constant  3.14159 
.     .     .     usually  denoted  by  the  letter  tt. 

When  we  pass  to  other  species  of  quantity,  the  choice  of  unit 
is  found  to  be  entirely  arbitrary.  There  is  absolutely  no  mode 
of  defining  a  length,  but  by  selecting  some  physical  object  exhib- 
iting that  length  between  certain  obvious  points  —  as,  for  in- 
stance, the  extremities  of  a  bar,  or  marks  made  upon  its  sur- 
face. 

Time  is  the  great  independent  variable  of  all  change  —  that 
which  itself  flows  on  uninterruptedly,  and  brings  the  variety 
which  we  call  motion  and  life.  When  we  reflect  upon  its  in- 
timate nature.  Time,  like  every  other  element  of  existence, 
proves  to  be  an  inscrutable  mystery.  We  can  only  say  with 
St.  Augustin,  to  one  who  asks  us  what  is  time,  "  I  know  when 
you  do  not  ask  me.'^  The  mind  of  man  will  ask  what  can 
never  be  answered,  but  one  result  of  a  true  and  rigorous  logical 
philosophy  must  be  to  convince  us  that  scientific  explanation 
can  only  take  place  between  phenomena  which  have  something 
in  common,  and  that  when  we  get  down  to  primary  notions, 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OF  MEASUREMENT  183 

like  those  of  time  and  space,  the  mind  must  meet  a  point  of  mys- 
tery beyond  which  it  cannot  penetrate.  A  definition  of  time 
must  not  be  looked  for ;  if  we  say  with  Hobbes,  that  it  is  "  the 
phantasm  of  before  and  after  in  motion/'  or  with  Aristotle  that 
it  is  "  the  number  of  motion  according  to  former  and  latter/'  we 
obviously  gain  nothing,  because  the  notion  of  time  is  involved  in 
the  expressions  before  and  after,  former  and  latter.  Time  is 
undoubtedly  one  of  those  primary  notions  which  can  only  be  de- 
fined physically,  or  by  observation  of  phenomena  which  proceed 
in  time. 

If  we  have  not  advanced  a  step  beyond  Augustin's  acute  re- 
flections on  this  subject,  it  is  curious  to  observe  the  wonderful 
advances  which  have  been  made  in  the  practical  measurement 
of  its  efflux.  In  earlier  centuries  the  rude  sun-dial  or  the  rising 
of  a  conspicuous  star  gave  points  of  reference,  while  the  flow  of 
water  fram  the  clepsydra,  the  burning  of  a  candle,  or,  in  the 
monastic  ages,  even  the  continuous  chanting  of  psalms,  were  the 
means  of  roughly  subdividing  periods,  and  marking  the  hours  of 
the  day  and  night.  The  sun  and  stars  still  furnish  the  standard 
of  time,  but  means  of  accurate  subdivision  have  become  requisite, 
and  this  has  been  furnished  by  the  pendulum  and  the  chrono- 
graph. By  the  pendulum  we  can  accurately  divide  the  day  into 
seconds  of  time.  By  the  chronograph  we  can  subdivide  the  sec- 
ond into  a  hundred,  a.  thousand,  or  even  a  million  parts.  Wheat- 
stone  measured  the  duration  of  an  electric  spark,  and  found  it 
to  be  no  more  than  one  115,200th  part  of  a  second,  while  more 
recently  Captain  ^NToble  has  been  able  to  appreciate  intervals  of 
time  not  exceeding  the  millionth  part  of  a  second. 

When  we  come  to  inquire  precisely  what  phenomenon  it  is 
that  we  thus  so  minutely  measure,  we  meet  insurmountable  diffi- 
culties. Newton  distinguished  time  according  as  it  was  absolute 
or  apparent  time,  in  the  following  words :  —  "  Absolute,  true, 
and  mathematical  time,  of  itself  and  from  its  own  nature,  flows 
equably  without  regard  to  anything  external,  and  by  another 
name  is  called  duration;  relative,  apparent  and  common  time,  is 
some  sensible  and  external  measure  of  duration  by  the  means 
of  motion."  Though  we  are  perhaps  obliged  to  assume  the 
existence  of  a  uniformly  increasing  quantity  which  we  call  time, 
yet  we  cannot  feel  or  know  abstract  and  absolute  time.  Dura- 
tion must  be  made  manifest  to  us  by  the  recurrence  of  some 


184  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

phenomenon.  The  succession  of  our  own  thougMs  is  no  doubt 
the  first  and  simplest  measure  of  time,  but  a  very  rude  one, 
because  in  some  persons  and  circumstances  the  thoughts  evi- 
dently flow  with  much  greater  rapidity  than  in  other  persons 
and  circumstances.  In  the  absence  of  all  other  phenomena,  the 
interval  between  one  thought  and  another  would  necessarily 
become  the  unit  of  time,  but  the  most  cursory  observations  show 
that  there  are  changes  in  the  outward  world  much  better  fitted 
by  their  constancy  to  measure  time  than  the  change  of  thoughts 
within  us. 

The  earth,  as  I  have  already  said,  is  the  real  clock  of  the 
astronomer,  and  is  practically  assumed  as  invariable  in  its  move- 
ments. But  on  what  ground  is  it  so  assumed?  According  to 
the  first  law  of  motion,  every  body  perseveres  in  its  state  of 
rest  or  of  uniform  motion  in  a  right  line,  unless  it  is  compelled 
to  change  that  state  by  forces  impressed  thereon.  .  Kotatory 
motion  is  subject  to  a  like  condition,  namely,  that  it  perseveres 
uniformly  unless  disturbed  by  extrinsic  forces.  Now  uniform 
motion  means  motion  through  equal  spaces  in  equal  times,  so 
that  if  we  have  a  body  entirely  free  from  all  resistance  or  per- 
turbation, and  can  measure  equal  spaces  of  its  path,  we  have  a 
perfect  measure  of  time.  But  let  it  be  remembered  that  this 
law  has  never  been  absolutely  proved  by  experience ;  for  we  can- 
not point  to  any  body,  and  say  that  it  is  wholly  unresisted  or 
undisturbed;  and  even  if  we  had  such  a  body,  we  should  need 
some  independent  standard  of  time  to  ascertain  whether  its 
motion  was  really  uniform.  As  it  is  in  moving  bodies  that  we 
find  the  best  standard  of  time,  we  cannot  use  them  to  prove  the 
uniformity  of  their  own  movements,  which  would  amount  to  a 
petitio  principii.  Our  experience  comes  to  this,  that  when  we 
examine  and  compare  the  movements  of  bodies  which  seem  to  us 
nearly  free  from  disturbance,  we  find  them  giving  nearly  har- 
monious measures  of  time.  If  any  one  body  which  seems  to  us  to 
move  uniformly  is  not  doing  so,  but  is  subject  to  fits  and  starts 
unknown  to  us,  because  we  have  no  absolute  standard  of  time, 
then  all  other  bodies  must  be  subject  to  the  same  arbitrary  fits 
and  starts,  otherwise  there  would  be  discrepancy  disclosing  the 
irregularities.  Just  as  in  comparing  together  a  number  of 
chronometers,  we  should  soon  detect  bad  ones  by  their  going 
irregularly,  as  compared  with  the  others,  so  in  nature  we  detect 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OF  MEASUREMENT  185 

disturbed  movement  by  its  discrepancy  from  that  of  other  bodies 
which  we  believe  to  be  undisturbed;,  and  which  agree  nearly 
among  themselves.  But  inasmuch  as  the  measure  of  motion  in- 
volves time,  and  the  measure  of  time  involves  motion,  there 
must  be  ultimately  an  assumption.  We  may  define  equal  times, 
as  times  during  which  a  moving  body  under  the  influence  of  no 
force  describes  equal  spaces ;  but  all  we  can  say  in  support  of  this 
definition  is,  that  it  leads  us  into  no  known  difl&culties,  and 
that  to  the  best  of  our  experience  one  freely  moving  body  gives 
the  same  results  as  any  other. 

When  we  inquire  where  the  freely  moving  body  is,  no  per- 
fectly satisfactory  answer  can.  be  given.  Practically  the  rotat- 
ing globe  is  sufficiently  accurate,  and  Thomson  and  Tait  say: 
"  Equal  times  are  times  during  which  the  earth  turns  through 
equal  angles."  No  long  time  has  passed  since  astronomers 
thought  it  impossible  to  detect  any  inequality  in  its  movement. 
Poisson  was  supposed  to  have  proved  that  a  change  in  the  length 
of  the  sidereal  day  amounting  to  one  ten-millionth  part  in  2,500 
years  was  incompatible  with  an  ancient  eclipse  recorded  by  the 
Chaldseans,  and  similar  calculations  were  made  by  Laplace.  But 
it  is  now  known  that  these  calculations  were  somewhat  in  error, 
and  that  the  dissipation  of  energy  arising  out  of  the  friction 
of  tidal  waves,  and  the  radiation  of  the  heat  into  space,  has 
slightly  decreased  the  rapidity  of  the  earth's  rotatory  motion. 
The  sidereal  day  is  now  longer  by  one  part  in  2,700,000,  than 
it  was  in  720  B.  C.  Even  before  this  discovery,  it  was  known  that 
invariability  of  rotation  depended  upon  the  perfect  maintenance 
of  the  earth's  internal  heat,  which  is  requisite  in  order  that  the 
earth's  dimensions  shall  be  unaltered.  Now  the  earth  being 
superior  in  temperature  to  empty  space,  must  cool  more  or  less 
rapidly,  so  that  it  cannot  furnish  an  absolute  measure  of  time. 
Similar  objections  could  be  raised  to  all  other  rotating  bodies 
within  our  cognizance. 

The  moon's  motion  round  the  earth,  and  the  earth's  motion 
round  the  sun,  form  the  next  best  measure  of  time.  They  are 
subject,  indeed,  to  disturbance  from  other  planets,  but  it  is  be- 
lieved that  these  perturbations  must  in  the  course  of  time  run 
through  their  rhythmical  courses,  leaving  the  mean  distances 
unaffected,  and  consequently,  by  the  third  Law  of  Kepler,  the 
periodic  times  unchanged.     But  there  is  more  reason  than  not 


186  *  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

to  believe  that  the  earth  encounters  a  slight  resistance  in  passing 
through  space,  like  that  which  is  so  apparent  in  Encke's  comet. 
There  may  also  be  dissipation  of  energy  in  the  electrical  rela- 
tions of  the  earth  to  the  sun,  possibly  identical  with  that  which 
is  manifested  in  the  retardation  of  comets.  It  is  probably  an 
untrue  assumption  then,  that  the  earth^s  orbit  remains  quite  in- 
variable. It  is  just  possible  that  some  other  body  may  be  found 
in  the  course  of  time  to  furnish  a  better  standard  of  time  than 
the  earth  in  its  annual  motion.  The  greatly  superior  mass  of 
Jupiter  and  its  satellites,  and  their  greater  distance  from  the 
sun,  may  render  the  electrical  dissipation  of  energy  less  con- 
siderable than  in  the  case  of  the  earth.  But  the  choice  of  the 
best  measure  will  always  be  an  open  one,  and  whatever  moving 
body  we  choose  may  ultimately  be  shown  to  be  subject  to  dis- 
turbing forces. 

The  pendulum,  although  so  admirable  an  instrument  for  sub- 
division of  time,  fails  as  a  standard;  for  though  the  same  pendu- 
lum affected  by  the  same  force  of  gravity  performs  equal  vibra- 
tions in  equal  times,  yet  the  slightest  change  in  the  form  or 
weight  of  the  pendulum,  the  least  corrosion  of  any  part,  or  the 
most  minute  displacement  of  the  point  of  suspension,  falsifies 
the  results,  and  there  enter  many  other  difficult  questions  of 
temperature,  friction,  resistance,  length  of  vibration,  etc. 

Thomson  and  Tait  are  of  opinion  that  the  ultimate  standard 
of  chronometry  must  be  founded  on  the  physical  properties  of 
some  body  of  more  constant  character  than  the  earth ;  for 
instance,  a  carefully  arranged  metallic  spring,  hermetically 
sealed  in  an  exhausted  glass  vessel.  But  it  is  hard  to  see  how 
we  can  be  sure  that  the  dimensions  and  elasticity  of  a  piece 
of  wrought  metal  will  remain  perfectly  unchanged  for  the  few 
millions  of  years  contemplated  by  them.  A  nearlv  perfect  gas, 
like  hydrogen,  is  perhaps  the  only  kind  of  substance  in  the 
unchanged  elasticity  of  which  we  could  have  confidence.  More- 
over, it  is  difficult  to  perceive  how  the  undulations  of  such  a 
spring  could  be  observed  with  the  requisite  accuracy.  More 
recently  Professor  Clerk  Maxwell  has  made  the  novel  suggestion, 
discussed  in  a  subsequent  section,  that  undulations  of  light 
in  vacuo  would  form  the  most  universal  standard  of  reference, 
both  as  regards  time  and  space.  According  to  this  system  the 
unit  of  time  would  be  the  time  occupied  by  one  vibration  of  the 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OF  MEASUREMENT  187 

particular  kind  of  light  whose  wave  length  is  taken  as  the 
unit  of  length. 

Next  in  importance  after  the  measurement  of  time  is  that 
of  space.  Time  comes  first  in  theory,  because  phenomena,  our 
internal  thoughts  for  instance,  may  change  in  time  without 
regard  to  space.  As  to  the  phenomena  of  outward  nature,  they 
tend  more  and  more  to  resolve  themselves  into  motions  of  mole- 
cules, and  motion  cannot  be  conceived  or  measured  without  ref- 
erence both  to  time  and  space. 

Turning  now  to  space  measurement,  we  find  it  almost  equally 
difficult  to  fix  and  define  once  and  for  ever,  a  unit  magnitude. 
There  are  three  different  modes  in  which  it  has  been  proposed 
to  attempt  the  perpetuation  of  a  standard  length. 

(1)  By  constructing  an  actual  specimen  of  the  standard  yard 
or  metre,  in  the  form  of  a  bar. 

(2)  By  assuming  the  globe  itself  to  be  the  ultimate  standard 
of  magnitude,  the  practical  unit  being  a  submultiple  of  some 
dimension  of  the  globe. 

(3)  By  adopting  the  length  of  the  simple  seconds  pendulum, 
as  a  standard  of  reference. 

At  first  sight  it  might  seem  that  there  was  no  great  difficulty 
in  this  matter,  and  that  any  one  of  these  methods  might  serve 
well  enough ;  but  the  more  minutely  we  inquire  into  the  details, 
the  more  hopeless  appears  to  be  the  attempt  to  establish  an 
invariable  standard.  We  must  in  the  first  place  point  out  a 
principle  not  of  an  obvious  character,  namely,  that  the  standard 
length  must  he  defined  by  one  single  object.  To  make  two  bars 
of  exactly  the  same  length,  or  even  two  bars  bearing  a  perfectly 
defined  ratio  to  each  other,  is  beyond  the  power  of  human  art. 
If  tw^o  copies  of  the  standard  metre  be  made  and  declared  equally 
correct,  future  investigators  will  certainly  discover  some  dis- 
crepancy between  them,  proving  of  course  that  they  cannot  both 
be  the  standard,  and  giving  cause  for  dispute  as  to  what  magni- 
tude should  then  be  taken  as  correct. 

If  one  invariable  bar  could  be  constructed  and  naintained 
as  the  absolute  standard,  no  such  inconvenience  could  arise. 
Each  successive  generation  as  it  acquired  higher  powers  of  meas- 
urement, would  detect  errors  in  the  copies  of  the  standard,  but 
the  standard  itself  would  be  unimpeached,  and  would,  as  it 
were,  become  by  degrees  more  and  more  accurately  known.     Un- 


188  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

fortunately  to  construct  and  preserve  a  metre  or  yard  is  also  a 
task  which  is  either  impossible,  or  what  comes  nearly  to  the 
same  thing,  cannot  be  shown  to  be  possible.  Passing  over  the 
practical  difficulty  of  defining  the  ends  of  the  standard  length 
with  complete  accuracy,  whether  by  dots  or  lines  on  the  surface, 
or  by  the  terminal  points  of  the  bar,  we  have  no  means  of  prov- 
ing that  substances  remain  of  invariable  dimensions.  Just  as  we 
cannot  tell  whether  the  rotation  of  the  earth  is  uniform,  except 
by  comparing  it  with  other  moving  bodies,  believed  to  be  more 
uniform  in  motion,  so  we  cannot  detect  the  change  of  length 
in  a  bar,  except  by  comparing  it  with  some  other  bar  supposed 
to  be  invariable.  But  how  are  we  to  know  which  is  the  invaria- 
ble bar?  It  is  certain  that  many  rigid  and  apparently  inva- 
riable substances  do  change  in  dimensions.  The  bulb  of  a 
thermometer  certainly  contracts  by  age,  besides  undergoing  rapid 
changes  of  dimensions  when  warmed  or  cooled  through  100** 
Cent.  Can  we  be  sure  that  even  the  most  solid  metallic  bars 
do  not  slightly  contract  by  age,  or  undergo  variations  in  their 
structure  by  change  of  temperature.  Fizeau  was  induced  to  try 
whether  a  quartz  crystal,  subjected  to  several  hundred  alterna- 
tions of  temperature,  would  be  modified  in  its  physical  proper- 
ties, and  he  was  unable  to  detect  any  change  in  the  coefficient  of 
expansion.  It  does  not  follow,  however,  that,  because  no  ap- 
parent change  was  discovered  in  a  quartz  crystal,  newly-con- 
structed bars  of  metal  would  undergo  no  change. 

The  best  principle,  as  it  seems  to  me,  upon  which  the  per- 
petuation of  a  standard  of  length  can  be  rested,  is  that,  if  a 
variation  of  length  occurs,  it  will  in  all  probability  be  of 
different  amount  in  different  substances.  If  then  a  great  num- 
ber of  standard  metres  were  constructed  of  all  kinds  of  different 
metals  and  alloys ;  hard  rocks,  such  as  granite,  serpentine,  slate, 
quartz,  limestone;  artificial  substances,  such  as  porcelain,  glass, 
etc.,  etc.,  careful  comparison  would  show  from  time  to  time 
the  comparative  variations  of  length  of  these  different  sub- 
stances. The  most  variable  substances  would  be  the  most  di- 
vergent, and  the  standard  would  be  furnished  by  the  mean 
length  of  those  which  agreed  most  closely  with  each  other 
just  as  uniform  motion  is  that  of  those  bodies  which  agree  most 
closely  in  indicating  the  efflux  of  time. 

The  second  method  assumes  that  the  globe  itself  is  a  body  of 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OF  MEASUREMENT  189 

invariable  dimensions  and  the  founders  of  the  metrical  system 
selected  the  ten-millionth  part  of  the  distance  from  the  equator 
to  the  pole  as  the  definition  of  the  metre.  The  first  imper- 
fection in  such  a  method  is  that  the  earth  is  certainly  not  in- 
variable in  size ;  for  we  know  that  it  is  superior  in  temperature  to 
surrounding  space,  and  must  be  slowly  cooling  and  contracting. 
There  is  much  reason  to  believe  that  all  earthquakes,  volcanoes, 
mountain  elevations,  and  changes  of  sea  level  are  evidences  of  this 
contraction  as  asserted  by  Mr.  Mallet.  But  such  is  the  vast 
bulk  of  the  earth  and  the  duration  of  its  past  existence,  that 
this  contraction  is  perhaps  less  rapid  in  proportion  than  that 
of  any  bar  or  other  material  standard  which  we  can  construct. 

The  second  and  chief  difficulty  of  this  method  arises  from 
the  vast  size  of  the  earth,  which  prevents  us  from  making  any 
comparison  with  the  ultimate  standard,  except  by  a  trigonomet- 
rical survey  of  a  most  elaborate  and  costly  kind.  The  French 
physicists,  who  first  proposed  the  method,  attempted  to  obviate 
this  inconvenience  by  carrying  out  the  survey  once  for  all,  and 
then  constructing  a  standard  metre,  which  should  be  exactly  the 
one  ten-millionth  part  of  the  distance  from  the  pole  to  the 
equator.  But  since  all  measuring  operations  are  merely  approx- 
imate, it  was  impossible  that  this  operation  could  be  perfectly 
achieved.  Accordingly,  it  was  shown  in  1838  that  the  sup- 
posed French  metre  was  erroneous  to  the  considerable  extent  of 
one  part  in  5527.  It  then  became  necessary  either  to  alter  the 
length  of  the  assumed  metre  or  to  abandon  its  supposed  relation 
to  the  earth^s  dimensions.  The  French  Government  and  the  In- 
ternational Metrical  Commission  have  for  obvious  reasons  de- 
cided in  favor  of  the  latter  course,  and  have  thus  reverted  to 
the  first  method  of  defining  the  metre  by  a  given  bar.  As  from 
time  to  time  the  ratio  between  this  assumed  standard  metre  and 
the  quadrant  of  the  earth  becomes  more  accurately  known,  we 
have  better  means  of  restoring  that  metre  by  reference  to  the 
globe  is  required.  But  until  lost,  destroyed,  or  for  some  clear 
reason  discredited,  the  bar  metre  and  not  the  globe  is  the 
standard.  Thomson  and  Tait  remark  that  any  of  the  more  ac- 
curate measurements  of  the  English  trigonometrical  survey 
might  in  like  manner  be  employed  to  restore  our  standard  yard, 
in  terms  of  which  the  results  are  recorded. 

The  third  method  of  defining  a  standard  length,  by  reference 


190  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

to  the  seconds  pendulum,  was  first  proposed  by  Huyghens,  and 
was  at  one  time  adopted  by  the  English  Government.  Erom  the 
principle  of  the  pendulum  (p.  186)  it  clearly  appears  that 
if  the  time  of  oscillation  and  the  force  actuating  the  pendulum  be 
the  same,  the  length  of  the  pendulum  must  be  the  same.  We  do 
not  get  rid  of  theoretical  difficulties,  for  we  must  assume  the 
attraction  of  gravity  at  some  point  of  the  earth's  surface,  say 
London,  to  be  unchanged  from  time  to  time,  and  the  sidereal 
day  to  be  invariable,  neither  assumption  being  absolutely  cor- 
rect so  far  as  we  can  judge.  The  pendulum,  in  short,  is  only 
an  indirect  means  of  making  one  physical  quantity  of  space 
depend  upon  two  other  physical  quantities  of  time  and  force. 
The  practical  difficulties  are,  however,  of  a  far  more  serious 
character  than  the  theoretical  ones.  The  length  of  a  pendulum 
is  not  the  ordinary  length  of  the  instrument,  which  might  be 
greatly  varied  without  affecting  the  duration  of  a  vibration, 
but  the  distance  from  the  center  of  suspension  to  the  center 
of  oscillation.  There  are  no  direct  means  of  determining  this 
latter  center,  which  depends  upon  the  average  momentum  of  all 
the  particles  of  the  pendulum  as  regards  the  center  of  suspen- 
sion. Huyghens  discovered  that  the  centers  of  suspension  and 
oscillation  are  interchangeable,  and  Kater  pointed  out  that  if  a 
pendulum  vibrates  with  exactly  the  same  rapidity  when  sus- 
pended from  two  different  points,  the  distance  between  these 
points  is  the  true  length  of  the  equivalent  simple  pendulum. 
But  the  practical  difficulties  in  employing  Kater's  reversible 
pendulum  are  considerable,  and  questions  regarding  the  disturb- 
ance of  the  air,  the  force  of  gravity,  or  even  the  interferenae 
of  electrical  attractions  have  to  be  entertained.  It  has  been 
shown  that  all  the  experiments  made  under  the  authority  of 
Government  for  determining  the  ratio  between  the  standard  yard 
and  the  seconds  pendulum,  were  vitiated  by  an  error  in  the  cor- 
rections for  the  resisting,  adherent,  or  buoyant  power  of  the 
air  in  which  the  pendulums  were  swuno-.  Even  if  such  correc- 
tions were  rendered  unnecessary  by  operating  in  a  vacuum,  other 
difficult  questions  remain.  Gauss'  mode  of  comparing  the  vibra- 
tions of  a  wire  pendulum  when  suspended  at  two  different  lengths 
is  open  to  equal  or  greater  practical  difficulties.  Thus  it  is  found 
that  the  pendulum  standard  cannot  compete  in  accuracy  and 
certainty  with  the  simple  bar  standard,  and  the  method  would 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OF  MEASUREMENT  191 

only  be  useful  as  an  accessory  mode  of  restoring  the  bar  standard 
if  at  any  time  again  destroyed. 

Before  we  can  measure  the  phenomena  of  nature,  we  require 
a  third  independent  unit,  which  shall  enable  us  to  define  the 
quantity  of  matter  occupying  any  given  space.  All  the  changes 
of  nature,  as  we  shall  see,  are  probably  so  many  manifestations 
of  energy;  but  energy  requires  some  substratum  or  material 
machinery  of  molecules,  in  and  by  which  it  may  be  manifested. 
Observation  shows  that,  as  regards  force,  there  may  be  two 
modes  of  variation  of  matter.  As  Newton  says  in  the  first  def- 
inition of  the  Principia,  "the  quantity  of  matter  is  the  measure 
of  the  same,  arising  from  its  density  and  bulk  conjunctly.'" 
Thus  the  force  required  to  set  a  body  in  motion  varies  both 
according  to  the  bulk  of  the  matter,  and  also  according  to  its 
quality.  Two  cubic  inches  of  iron  of  uniform  quality,  will 
require  twice  as  much  force  as  one  cubic  inch  to  produce  a  cer- 
tain velocity  in  a  given  time;  but  one  cubic  inch  of  gold  will 
require  more  force  than  one  cubic  inch  of  iron.  There  is  then 
some  new  measurable  quality  in  matter  apart  from  its  bulk, 
which  we  may  call  density,  and  which  is,  strictly  speaking,  indi- 
cated by  its  capacity  to  resist  and  absorb  the  action  of  force. 
For  the  unit  of  density  we  may  assume  that  of  any  substance 
which  is  uniform  in  quality,  and  can  readily  be  referred  to  from 
time  to  time.  Pure  water  at  any  definite  temperature,  for  in- 
stance that  of  snow  melting  under  inappreciable  pressure,  fur- 
nishes an  invariable  standard  of  density,  and  by  comparing 
equal  bulks  of  various  substances  with  a  like  bulk  of  ice-cold 
water,  as  regards  the  velocity  produced  in  a  unit  of  time  by  the 
same  force,  we  should  ascertain  the  densities  of  those  substances 
as  expressed  in  that  of  water.  Practically  the  force  of  gravity  is 
used  to  measure  density;  for  a  beautiful  experiment  with  the 
pendulum,  performed  by  Newton  and  repeated  by  Gauss,  shows 
that  all  kinds  of  matter  gravitate  equally.  Two  portions  of 
matter  then  which  are  in  equilibrium  in  the  balance,  may  be 
assumed  to  possess  equal  inertia,  and  their  densities  will  there- 
fore be  inversely  as  their  cubic  dimensions. 

Multipl3dng  the  number  of  units  of  density  of  a  portion  of 
matter,  by  the  number  of  units  of  space  occupied  by  it,  we  arrive 
at  the  quantity  of  matter,  or,  as  it  is  usually  called,  the  unit  of 
mass,  as  indicated  by  the  inertia  and  gravity  it  possesses.     To 


192  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

proceed  in  the  most  simple  manner,  the  unit  of  mass  ought  to  be 
that  of  a  cubic  unit  of  matter  of  the  standard  density;  but  the 
founders  of  the  metrical  system  took  as  their  unit  of  mass,  the 
cubic  centimetre  of  water,  at  the  temperature  of  maximum 
density  (about  4°  Cent.).  They  called  this  unit  of  mass  the 
gramme,  and  constructed  standard  specimens  of  the  kilogram, 
which  might  be  readily  referred  to  by  all  who  required  to  em- 
ploy accurate  weights.  Unfortunately  the  determination  of  the 
bulk  of  a  given  weight  of  water  at  a  certain  temperature  is  an 
operation  involving  many  difficulties,  and  it  cannot  be  performed 
in  the  present  day  with  a  greater  exactness  than  that  of  about 
one  part  in  5000,  the  results  of  careful  observers  being  some- 
times found  to  differ  as  much  as  one  part  in  1000. 

Weights,  on  the  other  hand,  can  be  compared  with  each  other 
to  at  least  one  part  in  a  million.  Hence  if  different  speci- 
mens of  the  kilogram  be  prepared  by  direct  weighing  against 
water,  they  will  not  agree  closely  with  each  other;  the  two 
principal  standard  kilograms  agree  neither  with  each  other,  nor 
with  their  definition.  According  to  .Professor  Miller  the  so- 
called  Kilogramme  des  Archives  weighs  15432.34874  grains, 
while  the  kilogram  deposited  at  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior 
in  Paris,  as  the  standard  for  commercial  purposes,  weighs 
15432.344  grains.  Since  a  standard  weight  constructed  of  plat- 
inum, or  platinum  and  iridium,  can  be  preserved  free  from  any 
appreciable  alteration,  and  since  it  can  be  very  accurately  com- 
pared with  other  weights,  we  shall  ultimately  attain  the  greatest 
exactness  in  our  measurements  of  mass,  by  assuming  some  single 
kilogram  as  a  provisional  standard,  leaving  the  determination  of 
its  actual  mass  in  units  of  space  and  density  for  future  investiga- 
tion. This  is  what  is  practically  done  at  the  present  day,  and 
thus  a  unit  of  mass  takes  the  place  of  the  unit  of  density,  both 
in  the  French  and  English  systems.  The  English  pound  is  de- 
fined by  a  certain  lump  of  platinum,  preserved  at  Westminster, 
and  is  an  arbitrary  mass,  chosen  merely  that  it  may  agree  as 
nearly  as  possible  with  old  English  pounds.  The  gallon,  the  old 
English  unit  of  cubic  measurement,  is  defined  by  the  condition 
that  it  shall  contain  exactly  ten  pounds  weight  of  water  at  62"^ 
Fahr. ;  and  although  it  is  stated  that  it  has  the  capacity  of  about 
277.274  cubic  inches,  this  ratio  between  the  cubic  and  linear 
systems  of  measurement  is  not  legally  enacted,  but  left  open  to 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OF  MEASUREMENT  193 

investigation.  While  the  French  metric  system  as  originally 
designed  was  theoretically  perfect,  it  does  not  differ  practically 
in  this  point  from  the  English  system. 

Quite  recently  Professor  Clerk  Maxwell  has  suggested  that 
the  vibrations  of  light  and  the  atoms  of  matter  might  conceiv- 
ably be  employed  as  the  ultimate  standards  of  length,  time,  and 
mass.  We  should  thus  arrive  at  a  natural  system  of  standards^ 
which,  though  possessing  no  present  practical  importance,  has 
considerable  theoretical  interest.  "In  the  present  state  of  sci- 
ence," he  says,  "  the  most  universal  standard  of  length  which 
we  could  assume  would  be  the  wave-length  in  vacuum  of  a 
particular  kind  of  light,  emitted  by  some  widely  diffused  sub- 
stance such  as  sodium,  which  has  well-defined  lines  in  its  spec- 
trum. Such  a  standard  would  be  independent  of  any  changes 
in  the  dimensions  of  the  earth,  and  should  be  adopted  by  those 
who  expect  their  writings  to  be  more  permanent  than  that  body.^^ 
In  the  same  way  we  should  get  a  universal  standard  unit  of  time, 
independent  of  all  questions  about  the  motion  of  material  bodies, 
by  taking  as  the  unit  the  periodic  time  of  vibration  of  that 
particular  kind  of  light  whose  wave-length  is  the  unit  of  length. 
It  would  follow  that  with  these  units  of  length  and  time  the 
unit  of  velocity  would  coincide  with  the  velocity  of  light  in 
empty  space.  As  regards  the  unit  of  mass.  Professor  Maxwell, 
humorously  as  I  should  think,  remarks  that  if  we  expect  soon 
to  be  able  to  determine  the  mass  of  a  single  molecule  of  some 
standard  substance,  we  may  wait  for  this  determination  before 
fixing  a  universal  standard  of  mass. 

In  a  theoretical  point  of  view  there  can  be  no  reasonable 
doubt  that  vibrations  of  light  are,  as  far  as  we  can  tell,  the  most 
fixed  in  magnitude  of  all  phenomena.  There  is  as  usual  no 
certainty  in  the  matter,  for  the  properties  of  the  basis  of  light 
may  vary  to  some  extent  in  different  parts  of  space.  But  no 
differences  could  ever  be  established  in  the  velocity  of  light  in 
different  parts  of  the  solar  system,  and  the  spectra  of  the  stars 
show  that  the  times  of  vibration  there  do  not  differ  perceptibly 
from  those  in  this  part  of  the  universe.  Thus  all  presumption  is 
in  favor  of  the  absolute  constancy  of  the  vibrations  of  light  — 
absolute,  that  is,  so  far  as  regards. any  means  of  investigation  we 
are  likely  to  possess.  N'early  the  same  considerations  apply  to 
the  atomic  weight  as  the  standard  of  mass.     It  is  impossible  to 


194  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

prove  that  all  atoms  of  the  same  substance  are  of  equal  mass, 
and  some  physicists  think  that  they  differ,  so  that  the  fixity  of 
combining  proportions  may  be  due  only  to  the  approximate 
constancy  of  the  mean  of  countless  millions  of  discrepant 
weights.  But  in  any  case  the  detection  of  difference  is  probably 
beyond  our  powers.  In  a  theoretical  point  of  view,  then,  the 
magnitudes  suggested  by  Professor  Maxwell  seem  to  be  the  most 
fixed  ones  of  which  we  have  any  knowledge,  so  that  they  neces- 
sarily become  the  natural  units. 

In  a  practical  point  of  view,  as  Professor  Maxwell  would  be 
the  first  to  point  out,  they  are  of  little  or  no  value,  because  in 
the  present  state  of  science  we  cannot  measure  a  vibration  or 
weigh  an  atom  with  any  approach  to  the  accuracy  which  is  at- 
tainable in  the  comparison  of  standard  metres  and  kilograms. 
The  velocity  of  light  is  not  known  probably  within  a  thousandth 
part,  and  as  we  progress  in  the  knowledge  of  light,  so  we  shall 
progress  in  the  accurate  fixation  of  other  standards.  All  that 
can  be  said  then,  is  that  it  is  very  desirable  to  determine  the 
wave-lengths  and  periods  of  the  principal  lines  of  the  solar  spec- 
trum, and  the  absolute  atomic  weights  of  the  elements,  with  all 
attainable  accuracy,  in  terms  of  our  existing  standards.  The 
numbers  thus  obtained  would  admit  of  the  reproduction  of  our 
standards  in  some  future  age  of  the  world  to  a  corresponding  de- 
gree of  accuracy,  were  there  need  of  such  reference;  but  sO 
far  as  we  can  see  at  present,  there  is  no  considerable  probability 
that  this  mode  of  reproduction  would  ever  be  the  best  mode. 

Having  once  established  the  standard  units  of  time,  space,  and 
density  or  mass,  we  might  employ  them  for  the  expression  of 
all  quantities  of  such  nature.  But  it  is  often  convenient  in 
particular  branches  of  science  to  use  multiples  or  submultiples 
of  the  original  units,  for  the  expression  of  quantities  in  a  simple 
manner.  We  use  the  mile  rather  than  the  yard  when  treating 
of  the  magnitude  of  the  globe,  and  the  mean  distance  of  the 
earth  and  sun  is  not  too  large  a  unit  when  we  have  to  describe 
the  distances  of  the  stars.  On  the  other  hand,  when  we  are 
occupied  with  microscopic  objects,  the  inch,  the  line  or  the  mil- 
limetre, become  the  most  convenient  terms  of  expression. 

It  is  allowable  for  a  scientific  man  to  introduce  a  new  unit 
in  any  branch  of  knowledge,  provided  that  it  assists  precise 
expression,    and   is   carefully   brought   into   relation   with   the 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OF  MEASUREMENT  ld5 

primary  units.  Thus  Professor  A.  W.  Williamson  has  proposed 
as  a  convenient  unit  of  volume  in  chemical  science,  an  absolute 
volume  equal  to  about  11.2  liters  representing  the  bulk  of  one 
gram  of  hydrogen  gas  at  standard  temperature  and  pressure, 
or  the  equivalent  weight  of  any  other  gas,  such  as  16  grams  of 
ox3^gen,  14  grams  of  nitrogen,  etc.;  in  short,  the  bulk  of  that 
quantity  of  any  one  of  those  gases  which  weighs  as  many  grams 
as  there  are  units  in  the  number  expressing  its  atomic  weight. 
Hofmann  has  proposed  a  new  unit  of  weight  for  chemists,  called 
a  crith,  to  be  defined  by  the  weight  of  one  liter  of  hydrogen 
gas  at  0°  C.  and  0°.76  mm.,  weighing  about  0.0896  gram.  Both 
of  these  units  must  be  regarded  as  purely  subordinate  units,  ulti- 
mately defined  by  reference  to  the  primary  units,  and  not  involv- 
ing any  new  assumption. 

The  standard  units  of  time,  space,  and  mass  having  been  once 
fixed,  many  kinds  of  magnitude  are  naturally  measured  by 
units  derived  from  them.  From  the  metre,  the  unit  of  linear 
magnitude  follows  in  the  most  obvious  manner  the  centiare  or 
square  metre,  the  unit  of  superficial  magnitude,  and  the  liter  that 
is  the  cube  of  the  tenth  part  of  a  metre,  the  unit  of  capacity  or 
volume.  Velocity  of  motion  is  expressed  by  the  ratio  of  the 
space  passed  over,  when  the  motion  is  uniform,  to  the  time 
occupied;  hence  the  unit  of  velocity  is  that  of  a  body  which 
passes  over  a  unit  of  space  in  a  unit  of  time.  In  physical  sci- 
ence the  unit  of  velocity  might  be  taken  as  one  metre  per  sec- 
ond. Momentum  is  measured  by  the  mass  moving,  regard 
being  paid  both  to  the  amount  of  matter  and  the  velocity  at 
which  it  is  moving.  Hence  the  unit  of  momentum  will  be  that 
of  a  unit  volume  of  matter  of  the  unit  density  moving  with  the 
unit  velocity,  or  in  the  French  system,  a  cubic,  centimetre  of 
water  of  the  maximum  density  moving  one  metre  per  second. 

An  accelerating  force  is  measured  by  the  ratio  of  the  momen- 
tum generated  to  the  time  occupied,  the  force  being  supposed  to 
act  uniformly.  The  unit  of  force  will  therefore  be  that  which 
generates  a  unit  of  momentum  in  a  unit  of  time,  or  which 
causes,  in  the  French  system,  one  cubic  centimetre  of  water  at 
maximum  density  to  acquire  in  one  second  a  velocity  of  one 
metre  per  second.  The  force  of  gravity  is  the  most  familiar 
kind  of  force,  and  as,  when  acting  unimpeded  upon  any  sub- 
stance, it  produces  in  a  second  a  velocity  of  9.80868   .    .  metres 


196  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

per  second  in  Paris,  it  follows  that  the  absolute  unit  of  force  is 
about  the  tenth  part  of  the  force  of  gravity.  If  we  employ  Brit- 
ish weights  and  measures,  the  absolute  unit  of  force  is  repre- 
sented by  the  gravity  of  about  half  an  ounce,  since  the  force  of 
gravity  of  any  portion  of  matter  acting  upon  that  matter  during 
one  second,  produces  a  final  velocity  of  32.1889  feet  per  second 
or  about  32  units  of  velocity.  Although  from  its  perpetual  ac- 
tion and  approximate  uniformity  we  find  in  gravity  the  most  con- 
venient force  for  reference,  and  thus  habitually  employ  it  to  es- 
timate quantities  of  matter,  we  must  remember  that  it  is  only 
one  of  many  instances  of  force.  Strictly  speaking,  we  should 
express  weight  in  terms  of  force,  but  practically  we  express  other 
forces  in  terms  of  weight. 

We  still  require  the  unit  of  energy,  a  more  complex  notion. 
The  momentum  of  a  body  expresses  the  quantity  of  motion 
which  belongs  or  would  belong  to  the  aggregate  of  the  particles ; 
but  when  we  consider  how  this  motion  is  related  to  the  action  of 
a  force  producing  or  removing  it,  we  find  that  the  effect  of  a 
force  is  proportional  to  the  mass  multiplied  by  the  square  of  the 
velocity  and  it  is  convenient  to  take  half  this  product  as  the  ex- 
pression required.  But  it  is  shown  in  books  upon  dynamics  that 
it  will  be  exactly  the  same  thing  if  we  define  energy  by  a  force 
acting  through  a  space.  The  natural  unit  of  energy  will  then  be 
that  which  overcomes  a  unit  of  force  acting  through  a  unit  of 
space;  when  we  lift  one  kilogram  through  one  metre,  against 
gravity^  we  therefore  accomplish  9.80868  .  .  units  of  work,  that 
is,  we  turn  so  many  units  of  potential  energy  existing  in  the 
muscles,  into  potential  energy  of  gravitation.  In  lifting  one 
pound  through  one  foot  there  is  in  like  manner  a  conversion  of 
32.1889  units  of  energy.  Accordingly  the  unit  of  energy  will 
be  in  the  English  system,  that  required  to  lift  one  pound  through 
about  the  thirty-second  part  of  a  foot ;  in  terms  of  metric  units, 
it  will  be  that  required  to  lift  a  kilogram  through  about  one  tenth 
part  of  a  metre. 

Every  person  is  at  liberty  to  measure  and  record  quantities 
in  terms  of  any  unit  which  he  likes.  He  may  use  the  yard  for 
linear  measurement  and  the  liter  for  cubic  measurement,  only 
there  will  then  be  a  complicated  relation  between  his  different 
results.  The  system  of  derived  units  which  we  have  been  briefly 
considering  is  that  which  gives  the  most  simple  and  natural 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OP  MEASUREMENT  107 

relations  between  quantitative  expressions  of  different  kinds,  and 
therefore  conduces  to  ease  of  comprehension  and  saving  of 
laborious  calculation. 

It  would  evidently  be  a  source  of  great  convenience  if 
scientific  men  could  agree  upon  some  single  system  of  units, 
original  and  derived,  in  terms  of  which  all  quantities  could  be 
expressed.  Statements  would  thus  be  rendered  easily  compar- 
able, a  large  part  of  scientific  literature  would  be  made  intel- 
ligible to  all,  and  the  saving  of  mental  labor  would  be  immense. 
It  seems  to  be  generally  allowed,  too,  that  the  metric  system  of 
weights  and  measures  presents  the  best  basis  for  the  ultimate 
system;  it  is  thoroughly  established  in  Western  Europe;  it  is 
legalized  in  England ;  it  is  already  commonly  employed  by  sci- 
entific men ;  it  is  in  itself  the  most  simple  and  scientific  of  sys- 
tems. There  is  every  reason  then  why  the  metric  system  should 
be  accepted  at  least  in  its  main  features. 

Ultimately,  as  we  can  hardly  doubt,  all  phenomena  will  be 
recognized  as  so  many  manifestations  of  energy;  and,  being  ex- 
pressed in  terms  of  the  unit  of  energy,  will  be  referable  to  the 
primary  units  of  space,  time,  and  density.  To  effect  this  reduc- 
tion, however,  in  any  particular  case,  we  must  not  only  be  able 
to  compare  different  quantities  of  the  phenomenon,  but  to  trace 
the  whole  series  of  steps  by  which  it  is  connected  with  the  pri- 
mary notions.  We  can  readily  observe  that  the  intensity  of 
one  source  of  light  is  greater  than  that  of  another;  and,  know- 
ing that  the  intensity  of  light  decreases  as  the  square  of  the 
distance  increases,  we  can  easily  determine  their  comparative 
brilliance.  Hence  we  can  express  the  intensity  of  light  falling 
upon  any  surface,  if  we  have  a  unit  in  which  to  make  the  ex- 
pression. Light  is  undoubtedly  one  form  of  .energy,  and  the 
unit  ought  therefore  to  be  the  unit  of  energy.  But  at  present  it 
is  quite  impossible  to  say  how  much  energy  there  is  in  any  par- 
ticular amount  of  light.  The  question  then  arises, —  Are  we  to 
defer  the  measurement  of  light  until  we  can  assign  its  relation  to 
other  forms  of  energy?  If  we  answer  Yes,  it  is  equivalent  to 
saying  that  the  science  of  light  must  stand  still  perhaps  for  a 
generation;  and  not  only  this  science  but  many  others.  The 
true  curse  evidently  is  to  select,  as  the  provisional  unit  of  light, 
some  light  of  convenient  intensity,  which  can  be  reproduced  from 
time  to  time  in  the  same  intensity,  and  which  is  defined  by  phys- 


198  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

ical  circumstances.  All  the  phenomena  of  light  may  be  experi- 
mentally investigated  relatively  to  this  unit,  for  instance  that 
obtained  after  much  labor  by  Bunsen  and  Eoscoe.  In  after 
years  it  will  become  a  matter  of  inquiry  what  is  the  energy  exert- 
ed in  such  unit  of  light ;  but  it  may  be  long  before  the  relation 
is  exactly  determined. 

A  provisional  unit,  then,  means  one  which  is  assumed  and 
physically  defined  in  a  safe  and  reproducible  manner,  in  order 
that  particular  quantities  may  be  compared  inter  se  more  ac- 
curately than  they  can  yet  be  referred  to  the  primary  units.  In 
reality  the  great  majority  of  our  measurements  are  expressed  in 
terms  of  such  provisionally  independent  units,  and  even  the 
unit  of  mass,  as  we  have  seen,  ought  to  be  considered  as  pro- 
visional. 

The  unit  of  heat  ought  to  be  simply  the  unit  of  energy,  al- 
ready described.  But  a  weight  can  be  measured  to  the  one- 
millionth  part,  and  temperature  to  less  than  the  thousandth 
part  of  a  degree  Fahrenheit,  and  to  less  therefore  than  the 
five-hundred  thousandth  part  of  the  absolute  temperature,  where- 
as the  mechanical  equivalent  of  heat  is  probably  not  known  to  the 
thousandth  part.  Hence  the  need  of  a  provisional  unit  of  heat, 
which  is  often  taken  as  that  requisite  to  raise  one  gram  of 
water  through  one  degree  Centigrade,  that  is  from  0°  to  1°. 
This  quantity  of  heat  is  capable  of  approximate  expression  in 
terms  of  time,  space,  and  mass;  for  by  the  natural  constant, 
determined  by  Dr.  Joule,  and  called  the  mechanical  equivalent 
of  heat,  we  know  that  the  assumed  unit  of  heat  is  equal  to  the 
energy  of  423.55  gram-metres,  or  that  energy  which  will  raise 
the  mass  of  423.55  grams  through  one  metre  against  9.8.. 
absolute  units  of  force.  Heat  may  also  be  expressed  in  terms 
of  the  quantity  of  ice  at  0°  Cent.,  which  it  is  capable  of  con- 
verting into'  water  under  inappreciable  pressure. 

In  order  to  understand  the  relations  between  the  quantities 
dealt  with  in  physical  science,  it  is  necessary  to  pay  attention 
to  the  Theory  of  Dimensions,  first  clearly  stated  by  Joseph 
Fourier,  but  in  later  years  developed  by  several  physicists.  This 
theory  investigates  the  manner  in  which  each  derived  unit  de- 
pends upon  or  involves  one  or  more  of  the  fundamental  units. 
The  number  of  units  in  a  rectangular  area  is  found  by  multi- 
plying together  the  numbers  of  units  in  the  sides :  thus  the  unit 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OF  MEASUREMENT  199 

of  length  enters  twice  into  the  unit  of  area,  which  is  therefore 
said  to  have  two  dimensions  with  respect  to  length.  Denoting 
length  by  L,  we  may  say  that  the  dimensions  of  area  are  L  X  i> 
or  U-.  It  is  obvious  in  the  same  way  that  the  dimensions  of 
volume  or  bulk  will  be  L^. 

The  number  of  units  of  mass  in  a  body  is  found  by  multiply- 
ing the  number  of  units  of  volume,  by  those  of  density.  Hence 
mass  is  of  three  dimensions  as  regards  length,  and  one  as  regards 
density.  'Calling  density  D,  the  dimensions  of  mass  are  UD. 
i\.s  already  explained,  however,  it  is  usual  to  substitute  an  arbi- 
trary provisional  unit  of  mass,  symbolized  by  ilf ;  according  to 
the  view  here  taken  we  may  sav  that  the  dimensions  of  M  are 

Introducing  time,  denoted  by  T,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  the 

L 
dimensions  of  velocity  will  be  —  or  LT-^,  because  the  number 

T 
of  units  in  the  velocity  of  a  body  is  found  by  dividing  the 
units  of  length  passed  over  by  the  units  of  time  occupied  in 
passing.  The  acceleration  of  a  body  is  measured  by  the  increase 
of  velocity  in  relation  to  the  time,  that  is,  we  must  divide  the 
units  of  velocity  gained  by  the  units  of  time  occupied  in  gain- 
ing it;  hence  its  dimensions  will  be  LT-^.  Momentum  is  the 
product  of  mass  and  velocity,  so  that  its  dimensions  are  MLT-^. 
The  effect  of  a  force  is  measured  by  the  acceleration  produced 
in  a  unit  of  mass  in  a  unit  of  time;  hence  the  dimensions  of 
force  are  MLT-^.  Work  done  is  proportional  to  the  force  acting 
and  to  the  space  through  which  it  acts ;  so  that  it  has  the  dimen- 
sions of  force  with  that  of  length  added,  giving  MUT-^. 

It  should  be  particularly  noticed  that  angular  magnitude  has 
no  dimensions  at  all,  being  measured  by  the  ratio  of  the  arc  to  the 
radius  as  shown.  Thus  we  have  the  dimensions  LL-^  or  L^. 
This  agrees  with  the  statement  previously  made,  that  no  arbitrary 
unit  of  angular  magnitude  is  needed.  Similarly,  all  pure  num- 
bers expressing  ratios  only,  such  as  sines  and  other  trigonomet- 
rical functions,  logarithms,  exponents,  etc.,  are  devoid  of  di- 
mensions. They  are  absolute  numbers  necessarily  expressed  in 
terms  of  unity  itself,  and  are  quite  unaffected  by  the  selection  of 
the  arbitrary  physical  units.     Angular  magnitude,  however,  en- 


200  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

ters  into  other  quantities,  such  as  angular  velocity,  which  has 

1 
the  dimensions  —  or  T-%  the  units  of  angle  being  divided  by 

T 
the  units  of  time  occupied.     The  dimensions  of  angular  accel- 
eration are  denoted  by  T-^. 

The  quantities  treated  in  the  theories  of  heat  and  electricity 
are  numerous  and  complicated  as  regards  their  dimensions. 
Thermal  capacity  has  the  dimensions  ML-^,  thermal  conductiv- 
ity, ML-^T-^.  In  Magnetism  the  dimensions  of  the  strength  of 
pole  are  MiL^T-'^,  the  dimensions  of  field-intensity  are  MiL- 
i-T-^,  and  the  intensity  of  magnetization  has  the  same  dimen- 
sions. In  the  science  of  electricity  physicists  have  to  deal  with 
numerous  kinds  of  quantity,  and  their  dimensions  are  different 
too  in  the  electro-static  and  the  electro-magnetic  systems.  Thus 
electro-motive  force  has  the  dimensions  MhLlT^,  in  the  former, 
and  MiLiT-'^  in  the  latter  system.  Capacity  simply  depends 
upon  length  in  electro-statics,  but  upon  L-^T^  in  electro-mag- 
netics. It  is  worthy  of  particular  notice  that  electrical  quanti- 
ties have  simple  dimensions  when  expressed  in  terms  of  density 
instead  of  mass.  The  instances  now  given  are  sufficient  to 
show  the  difficulty  of  conceiving  and  following  out  the  relations 
of  the  quantities  treated  in  physical  science  without  a  systematic 
method  of  calculating  and  exhibiting  their  dimensions.  It  is 
only  in  quite  recent  years  that  clear  ideas  about  these  quantities 
have  been  attained.  Half  a  century  ago  probably  no  one  but 
Eourier  could  have  explained  what  he  meant  by  temperature 
or  capacity  for  heat.  The  notion  of  measuring  electricity  had 
hardly  been  entertained. 

Besides  affording  us  a  clear  view  of  the  complex  relations  of 
physical  quantities,  this  theory  is  specially  useful  in  two  ways. 
Firstly,  it  affords  a  test  of  the  correctness  of  mathematical  rea- 
soning. According  to  the  Principle  of  Hornogeneity,  all  the 
quantities  added  together,  and  equated  in  any  equation,  must 
have  the  same  dimensions.  Hence  if,  on  estimating  the  dimen- 
sions of  the  terms  in  any  equation,  they  be  not  homogeneous, 
seme  blunder  must  have  been  committed.  It  is  impossible  to  add 
a  force  to  a  velocity,  or  a  mass  to  a  momentum.  Even  if  the  nu- 
merical values  of  the  two  members  of  a  non-homogeneous  equa- 
tion were  equal,  this  would  be  accidental,  and  any  alteration 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OF  MEASUREMENT  201 

in  the  physical  units  would  produce  inequality  and  disclose  the 
falsity  of  the  ]aw  expressed  in  the  equation. 

Secondly,  the  theory  of  units  enables  us  readily  and  in- 
fallibly to  deduce  the  change  in  the  numerical  expression  of 
any  physical  quantity,  produced  by  a  change  in  the  fundamental 
units.  It  is  of  course  obvious  that  in  order  to  represent  the 
same  absolute  quantity,  a  number  must  vary  inversely  as  the 
magnitude  of  the  units  which  are  numbered.  The  yard  ex- 
jDressed  in  feet  is  3 ;  taking  the  inch  as  the  unit  instead  of  the 
foot  it  becomes  36.  Every  quantity  into  which  the  dimension 
length  enters  positively  must  be  altered  in  like  manner.  Chang- 
ing the  unit  from  the  foot  to  the  inch,  numerical  expressions 
of  volume  must  be  multiplied  by  12  X  13  X  l^-  When  a  di- 
mension enters  negatively  the  opposite  rule  will  hold.  If  for 
the  minute  we  substitute  the  second  as  unit  of  time,  then  we 
must  divide  all  numbers  expressing  angular  velocities  by  60, 
and  numbers  expressing  angular  acceleration  by  60  X  60.  The 
rule  is  that  a  numerical  expression  varies  inversely  as  the  mag- 
niture  of  the  unit  as  regards  each  whole  dimension  entering 
positively,  and  it  varies  directly  as  the  magnitude  of  the  unit 
for  each  whole  dimension  entering  negative!}'.  In  the  case  of 
fractional  exponents,  the  proper  root  of  the  ratio  of  change  has 
to  be  taken. 

Having  acquired  accurate  measuring  instruments,  and  decided 
upon  the  units  in  which  the  results  shall  be  expressed,  there 
remains  the  question.  What  use  shall  be  made  of  our  powers 
of  measurement?  Our  principal  object  must  be  to  discover 
general  quantitative  laws  of  nature;  but  a  very  large  amount 
of  preliminary  labor  is  employed  in  the  accurate  determination 
of  the  dimensions  of  existing  objects,  and  the  numerical  relations 
between  diverse  forces  and  phenomena.  Step  by  step  every  part 
of  the  material  universe  is  surveyed  and  brought  into  known 
relations  with  other  parts.  Each  manifestation  of  energy  is 
correlated  with  each  other  kind  of  manifestation.  Professor 
Tyndall  has  described  the  care  with  which  such  operations  are 
conducted. 

"  Those  who  are  unacquainted  with  the  details  of  scientific 
investigation,  have  no  idea  of  the  amount  of  labor  expended  on 
the  determination  of  those  numbers  on  which  important  calcu- 
lations or  inferences  depend.     They  have  no  idea  of  the  patience 


202  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

shown  by  a  Berzelius  in  determining  atomic  weights ;  by  a  Reg- 
nault  in  determining  coefficients  of  expansion;  or  by  Joule  in 
determining  the  mechanical  equivalent  of  heat.  There  is  a 
morality  brought  to  bear  upon  such  matters  which,  in  point 
of  severity,  is  probably  without  a  parallel  in  any  other  domain  of 
intellectual  action." 

Every  new  natural  constant  which  is  recorded  brings  many 
fresh  inferences  within  our  power.  For  if  n  be  the  number 
of  such  constants  known,  then  %  (n^-n)  is  the  number  of 
ratios  which  are  within  our  powers  of  calculation,  and  this 
increases  with  the  square  of  n.  ,We  thus  gradually  piece  to- 
gether a  map  of  nature,  in  which  the  lines  of  inference  from  one 
phenomenon  to  another  rapidly  grow  in  complexity,  and  the 
powers  of  scientific  prediction  are  correspondingly  augmented. 

Babbage  proposed  the  formation  of  a  collection  of  the  con- 
stant numbers  of  nature,  a  work  which  has  at  last  been  taken 
in  hand  by  the  Smithsonian  Institution.  It  is  true  that  a  com- 
plete collection  of  such  numbers  would  be  almost  co-extensive 
with  scientific  literature,  since  almost  all  the  numbers  occurring 
in  works  on  chemistry,  mineralogy,  physics,  astronomy,  etc., 
would  have  to  be  included.  Still  a  handy  volume  giving  all  the 
more  important  numbers  and  their  logarithms,  referred  when 
requisite  to  the  different  units  in  common  use,  would  be  very 
useful.  A  small  collection  of  constant  numbers  will  be  found 
at  the  end  of  Babbage^s,  Hutton^s,  and  many  other  tables  of 
logarithms,  and  a  somewhat  larger  collection  is  given  in  Tem- 
pleton^s  Millwriglit  and  Engineer's  Pocket  Companion. 

Our  present  object  will  be  to  classify  these  constant  numbers 
roughly,  according  to  their  comparative  generality  and  impor- 
tance, under  the  following  heads :  — 

(1)  Mathematical  constants. 

(2)  Physical  constants. 

(3)  Astronomical  constants. 

(4)  Terrestrial  numbers. 

(5)  Organic  numbers. 

(6)  Social  numbers. 

At  the  head  of  the  list  of  natural  constants  must  come  those 
which  express  the  necessary  relations  of  numbers  to  each  other. 
The  ordinary  Multiplication  Table  is  the  most  familiar  and 
the  most  important  of  such  series  of  constants,  and  is,  theoret- 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OF  MEASUREMENT  203 

ically  speaking,  infinite  in  extent.  Next  we  must  place  the 
Arithmetical  Triangle,  the  significance  of  which  has  already  been 
clearly  pointed  out.  Tables  of  logarithms  also  contain  vast 
series  of  natural  constants,  arising  out  of  the  relations  of  pure 
numbers.  At  the  base  of  all  logarithmic  theory  is  the  myste- 
rious natural  constant  commonly  denoted  by  e,  or  c,  being  equal 

111  1 

to  the  infinite  series  1  +  -  -] 1 1 [-••••?  and 

1      1.2       1.2.3      1.2.3.4 
thus  consisting  of  the  sum  of  the  ratios  between  the  numbers  of 
permutations  and  combinations  of   0,   1,  2,   3,  4,  etc.  things. 
Tables  of  prime  numbers  and  of  the  factors  of  composite  num- 
bers must  not  be  forgotten. 

Another  vast  and  in  fact  infinite  series  of  numerical  con- 
stants contains  those  connected  with  the  measurement  of  angles, 
and  embodied  in  trigonometrical  tables,  whether  as  natural  or 
logarithmic  sines,  cosines,  and  tangents.  It  should  never  be 
forgotten  that  though  these  numbers  find  their  chief  employ- 
ment in  connection  with  trigonometry,  or  the  measurement  of  the 
sides  of  a  right-angled  triangle,  yet  the  numbers  themselves  arise 
out  of  numerical  relations  bearing  no  special  relation  to  space. 
Poremost  among  trigonometrical  constants  is  the  well  known 
number  tr^  usually  employed  as  expressing  the  ratio  of  the  cir- 
cumference and  the  diameter  of  a  circle;  from  tt  follows  the 
value  of  the  arcual  or  natural  unit  of  angular  value  as  ex- 
pressed in  ordinary  degrees. 

Among  other  mathematical  constants  not  uncommonly  used 
may  be  mentioned  tables  of  factorials,  tables  of  Bernouilli's 
numbers,  tables  of  the  error  function,  which  latter  are  indis- 
pensable not  only  in  the  theory  of  probability  but  also  in  several 
other  branches  of  science. 

It  should  be  clearly  understood  that  the  mathematical  con- 
stants and  tables  of  reference  already  in  our  possession,  al- 
though very  extensive,  are  only  an  infinitely  small  part  of  what 
might  be  formed.  With  the  progress  of  science  the  tabulation 
of  new  functions  will  be  continually  demanded,  and  it  is  worthy 
of  consideration  whether  public  money  should  not  be  available 
to  reward  the  severe,  long-continued,  and  generally .  thankless 
labor  which  must  be  gone  through  in  calculating  tables.  Such 
labors  are  a  benefit  to  the  whole  human  race  as  long  as  it 


204  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

shall  exist,  though  there  are  few  who  can  appreciate  the  extent 
of  this  benefit. 

The  second  class  of  constants  contains  those  which  refer  to 
the  actual  constitution  of  matter.  For  the  most  part  they  de- 
pend upon  the  peculiarities  of  the  chemical  substance  in  ques- 
tion, but  we  may  begin  with  those  which  are  of  the  most  gen- 
eral character.  In  a  first  sub-class  we  may  place  the  velocity 
of  light  or  heat  undulations,  the  numbers  expressing  the  relation 
between  the  lengths  of  the  undulations,  and  the  rapidity  of  the 
undulations,  these  numbers  depending  only  on  the  properties 
of  the  ethereal  medium,  and  being  probably  the  same  in  all 
parts  of  the  universe.  The  theory  of  heat  gives  rise  to  several 
numbers  of  the  highest  importance,  especially  Joule's  mechanical 
equivalent  of  heat,  the  absolute  zero  of  temperature,  the  mean 
temperature  of  empty  space,  etc. 

Taking  into  account  the  diverse  properties  of  the  elements 
we  must  have  tables  of  the  atomic  weights,  the  specific  heats, 
the  specific  gravities,  the  refractive  powers,  not  only  of  the 
elements,  but  their  almost  infinitely  numerous  compounds.  The 
properties  of  hardness,  elasticity,  viscosity,  expansion  by  heat, 
conducting  powers  for  heat  and  electricity,  must  also  be  deter- 
mined in  immense  detail.  There  are,  however,  certain  of  these 
numbers  which  stand  out  prominently  because  they  serve  as 
intermediate  units  or  terms  of  comparison.  Such  are,  for  in- 
stance, the  absolute  coefficients  of  expansion  of  air,  water  and 
mercury,  the  temperature  of  the  maximum  density  of  water,  the 
latent  heats  of  water  and  steam,  the  boiling-point  of  water  under 
standard  pressure,  the  melting  and  boiling-points  of  mercury, 
and  so  forth. 

The  third  great  class  consists  of  numbers  possessing  far  less 
generality  because  they  refer  not  to  the  properties  of  matter,  but 
to  the  special  forms  and  distances  in  which  matter  has  been 
disposed  in  the  part  of  the  universe  open  to  our  examination. 
We  have,  first  of  all,  to  define  the  magnitude  and  form  of  the 
earth,  its  mean  density,  the  constant  aberration  of  light  ex- 
pressing the  relation  between  the  earth's  mean  velocity  in  space 
and  the  velocity  of  light.  From  the  earth,  as  our  observatory, 
we  then  proceed  to  lay  down  the  mean  distances  of  the  sun,  and 
of  the  planets  from  the  same  center;  all  the  elements  of  the 
planetary  orbits,  the  magnitudes,  densities,  masses,  periods  of 


UNITS  AND  STANDARDS  OF  MEASUREMENT  205 

axial  rotation  of  the  several  planets  are  by  degrees  determined 
with  growing  accuracy.  The  same  labors  must  be  gone  through 
for  the  satellites.  Catalogues  of  comets  with  the  elements  of 
their  orbits,  as  far  as  ascertainable,  must  not  be  omitted. 

From  the  earth's  orbit  as  a  new  base  of  observations,  we  next 
proceed  to  survey  the  heavens  and  lay  down  the  apparent  posi- 
tions, magnitudes,  motions,  distances,  periods  of  variation,  etc., 
of  the  stars.  All  catalogues  of  stars  from  those  of  Hipparchus 
and  Tycho,  are  full  of  numbers  expressing  rudely  the  conforma- 
tion of  the  visible  universe.  But  there  is  obviously  no  limit 
to  the  labors  of  astronomers;  not  only  are  millions  of  distant 
stars  awaiting  their  first  measurements,  but  those  already  regis- 
tered require  endless  scrutiny  as  regards  their  movements  in  the 
three  dimensions  of  space,  their  periods  of  revolution,  their 
changes  of  brilliance  and  color.  It  is  obvious  that  though  astro- 
nomical numbers  are  conventionally  called  constant^  they  are 
probably  in  all  cases  subject  to  more  or  less  rapid  variation. 

Our  knowdedge  of  the  globe  we  inhabit  involves  many 
numerical  determinations,  which  have  little  or  no  connection 
with  astronomical  theory.  The  extreme  heights  of  the  prin- 
cipal mountains,  the  mean  elevations  of  continents,  the 
mean  or  extreme  depths  of  the  oceans,  the  specific  gravities 
of  rocks,  the  temperature  of  mines,  the  host  of  numbers  express- 
ing the  meteorological  or  magnetic  conditions  of  ever}^  part  of 
the  surface,  must  fall  into  this  class.  Many  such  numbers  are 
not  to  be  called  constant,  being  subject  to  periodic  or  secular 
changes,  but  they  are  hardly  more  variable,  in  fact,  than  some 
which  in  astronomical  science  are  set  down  as  constant.  In  many 
cases  quantities  which  seem  most  variable  may  go  through  rhyth- 
mical changes  resulting  in  a  nearly  uniform  average,  and  it  is 
only  in  the  long  progress  of  physical  investigation  that  we  can 
hope  to  discriminate  successfully  between  those  elemental  num- 
bers whieh  are  fixed  and  those  which  vary.  In  the  latter  case 
the  law  of  variation  becomes  the  constant  relation  which  is  the 
object  of  our  search. 

The  forms  and  properties  of  brute  nature  having  been  suffi- 
ciently defined  by  the  previous  classes  of  numbers,  the  organic 
world,  both  vegetable  and  animal,  remains  outstanding,  and 
offers  a  higher  series  of  phenomena  for  our  investigation.  All 
exact  knowledge  relating  to  the  forms  and  sizes  of  living  things, 


206  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

their  numbers,  the  quantities  of  various  compounds  which  they 
consume,  contain,  or  excrete,  their  muscular  or  nervous  energy, 
etc.,  must  be  placed  apart  in  a  class  by  themselves.  All  such 
numbers  are  doubtless  more  or  less  subject  to  variation,  and 
but  in  a  minor  degree  capable  of  exact  determination.  Man,  so 
far  as  he  is  an  animal,  and  as  regards  his  physical  form,  must 
also  be  treated  in  this  class. 

Little  allusion  need  be  made  in  this  work  to  the  fact  that 
man  in  his  economic,  sanitary,  intellectual,  aesthetic  or  moral  re- 
lations may  become  the  subject  of  sciences,  the  highest  and  most 
useful  of  all  sciences.  Every  one  who  is  engaged  in  statistical 
inquiry  must  acknowledge  the  possibility  of  natural  laws  govern- 
ing such  statistical  facts.  Hence  we  must  allot  a  distinct  place 
to  numerical  information  relating  to  the  numbers,  ages,  physical 
and  sanitary  condition,  mortalit}^  etc.,  of  different  peoples,  in 
short,  to  vital  statistics.  Economic  statistics,  comprehending  the 
quantities  o*f  commodities  produced,  existing,  exchanged  and  con- 
sumed, constitute  another  extensive  body  of  science.  In  the  prog- 
ress of  time  exact  investigation  may  possibily  subdue  regions  of 
phenomena  which  at  present  defy  all  scientific  treatment.  That 
scientific  method  can  ever  exhaust  the  phenomena  of  the  human 
mind  is  incredible. 


THE  METRIC  SYSTEM  207 


THE  METRIC  SYSTEM. 

By  ALEXANDER  HARVEY. 

IN  the  course  of  one  of  those  conversational  debates  which  make 
the  official  atmosphere  of  the  British  Honse  of  Lords  so 
genial,  that  illustrious  scientist,  Lord  Kelvin,  ventured  on  a 
certain  occasion  to  deplore  Engiand^s  delay  in  adopting  the 
metric  system.  He  had  excellent  reasons  for  deploring  that  delay, 
he  said,  for  it  had  once  nearly  cost  him  his  life.  He  was  experi- 
menting with  a  new  and  ingenious  rifle  and,  having  loaded  it,  was 
just  about  to  discharge  the  weapon  when  his  eye  caught  the  table 
of  weights  of  different  dimensions  which  should  have  guided  him 
in  the  use  of  the  piece.  Lord  Kelvin  saw  that  it  was  a  metric 
table,  and  that,  consequently,  he  had  put  into  the  rifle  too  heavy 
a  charge.  "Had  I  not  discovered  my  error  in  time,^^  he  con- 
cluded, "  I  should  have  been  blown  to  atoms." 

The  laughter  with  which  this  anecdote  was  received  did  not, 
we  may  rest  assured,  proceed  from  the  heartlessness  of  his  audi- 
ence. In  fact,  it  inspired  England^s  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
the  famous  Marquis  of  Lansdowne,  to  tell,  then  and  there,  another 
metric  system  story.  An  English  friend  of  his,  traveling  on  the 
continent,  sent  the  prescription  of  his  London  physician  to  be 
made  up  by  a  local  chemist.  What  was  his  surprise,  when  the 
drug  arrived,  to  discover  his  favorite  little  pills  swollen  to  the 
proportion  of  marbles !  And  while  the  Englishman  still  mar- 
veled at  this  transformation,  the  local  chemist  rushed  in  to 
explain  that  the  metric  system  had  been  taken  for  granted  in  com- 
pounding the  prescription,  with  the  result  that  each  huge  pill 
contained  about  thirty  grains  of  calomel  —  "  which,  I  am  told," 
observed  the  Marquis  of  Lansdowne,  amid  the  merriment  of  his 
auditors,  "  is  considerably  more  than  a  grown  man's  dose.'' 

Anecdotes  of  this  sort  carry  us  curiously  back  to  850  B.  C, 
more  or  less,  when  Dido  gained  her  site  for  Carthage  by  measur- 
ing the  coveted  land  with  a  bull's  hide,  cutting  the  hide  into  strips 


208  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

after  she  had  made  the  bargain.  All  ancient  history,  in  fact, 
records  the  vicissitudes  of  weights  and  measures.  Not  even  the 
shepherd  kings  of  Egypt  were  the  first  to  make  mad  experiments 
with  standards  of  value  and  of  capacity.  The  performance  of  one 
of  them,  however,  in  decreeing  that  his  subjects  must  accept  tin 
tokens  where  they  had  previously  accepted  only  gold  ones,  is 
characteristic  of  antiquity. 

But  the  standards  proved  stronger  than  kings  —  how  much 
stronger  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that,  while  the  rulers  and 
the  religions  of  Egypt  passed  into  nothingness,  the  pound  and 
the  yard  of  Egypt  are  the  lineal  ancestors  of  the  pound  and  the 
yard  of  our  day.  The  most  ancient  of  Egyptian  units  of  measure, 
the  foot,  was  the  merest  fraction  over  the  foot  of  present  day 
England.  The  whole  ancient  world  anticipated  the  modern  world 
by  borrowing  this  foot  from  the  captors  of  the  Jews.  The  Jews 
themselves  were  not  behind  their  contemporaries  in  the  recog- 
nition of  a  universal  convenience.  A  like  fate  befell  the  pound. 
That  contemporary  standard  unit  of  weight  figures  under  another 
name  —  mina  —  in  an  inscription  on  the  walls  of  the  great  tem- 
ple of  Karnac,  telling  of  the  triumphs  of  Thothmes  III.,  and 
dating  from  perhaps  1445  B.  C.  It  was  a  unit  that  served  two 
purposes,  for  it  aided  in  the  weight  of  commodities  and  in  the 
measure  of  liquid  capacity.  Eluids  were  estimated  according  to 
their  heaviness  by  the  subjects  of  this  Thothmes.  Those  accom- 
plished borrowers,  the  Romans,  took  over  the  entire  system,  modi- 
fied it  to  suit  their  convenience,  and  handed  it  on  to  modern 
Europe.  To  the  Romans  we  owe  the  inch,  for  they  cut  the  foot  of 
the  Egyptians  into  twelfths  in  accordance  with  their  peculiar  duo- 
decimal system  of  notation. 

Not  until  we  try  to  get  back  of  the  Egyptian  pound  and  yard 
are  we  plunged  into  the  vortex  of  the  hot  controversy  which  now 
rages  around  the  subject  of  the  origin  of  all  weights  and  meas- 
ures. There  are  two  theories  to  deal  with,  and  reams  of  printed 
matter  have  appeared  in  their  support.  One  party  would  have  us 
believe  that  when  the  prehistoric  ancients  had  hit  upon  some 
convenient  unit  of  weight  or  capacity,  they  subdivided  it  for  the 
smaller  transactions  of  every-day  life.  That  idea,  say  its  oppo- 
nents, is  nonsensical.  Man's  first  attempts  at  weighing  were  by 
means  of  seeds,  abundantly  placed  at  his  disposal  as  ideal  weights 
and  counters  adapted  to  the  primitive  state  of  his  intelligence. 


THE  METRIC  SYSTEM  209 

Having  fixed  one  diminutive  unit  of  measure  in  his  untaught 
mind,  he  evolved  a  larger  one,  not  by  calculation,  but  from  sheer 
necessity.  Such  was  the  germ  of  that  Chaldsean  or  Babylonian 
system  out  of  which  the  Egyptian  units  ultimately  emerged.  This 
"  empirical  ^^  theory  makes  short  work  of  the  view  that  the  stand- 
ards of  antiquity  were  scientifically  deduced.  Those  exquisite  cal- 
culations of  the  base  of  the  great  pyramid  as  the  principal  stand- 
ard, "it  being  the  500th  part  of  a  degree  of  the  meridian, 
previously  ascertained  for  this  purpose,"  of  which  we  are  told  by 
imaginative  and  eloquent  historians,  have  nothing  to  do  with  the 
case.  We  blunder  egregiously  in  deriving  the  non-metric  sys- 
tem of  modern  Europe  and  America  from  the  astronomical  lore 
of  the  ancients  at  the  expense  of  the  historical  science  of  the 
moderns. 

The  immortal  Lilliputian  controversy  regarding  the  most  avail- 
able end  at  which  to  break  an  egg  was  never  so  vehement,  and  the 
dispute  as  to  whether  mankind  climbed  up  to  a  standard  or 
climbed  down  from  one  may  not  be  settled  at  all.  The  ox  and  the 
talent  in  Homer,  and  the  abundance  of  gold  in  ancient  Ireland, 
the  significant  fact  that  the  gold  unit  was  everywhere  equivalent 
to  a  cow,  and  the  striking  fact  that  we  have  ten  fingers  have 
been  urged  by  each  side  in  support  of  its  own  case.  The  single 
point  upon  which  there  appears  to  be  general  agreement  is  that 
the  most  ancient  measures  and  weights  with  which  civilized  man 
is  acquainted  arose  in  Chaldea,  Egypt  and  perhaps  Phoenicia. 
Back  to  those  very  standards  and  weights  can  be  traced  those  of 
the  twentieth  century.  The  line  of  descent  is  through  the  Egyp- 
tians to  the  Jews,  the  Asiatics  and  the  Greeks,  then  to  the  Eomans 
and  then  on  to  the  nations  of  Europe.  It  seems  clear,  too,  that 
the  proportions  of  the  human  frame  suggested  a  variety  of  units, 
especialty  the  cubit,  so  far  as  measure  of  length  is-  concerned. 

When  the  Normans  went  over  to  England  they  found  the  yard, 
the  bushel  and  the  pound  flourishing  in  the  Saxon  kingdoms. 
Precisely  how  the  Saxons  came  by  these  standards  is  a  matter  of 
dispute,  some  authorities  ascribing  the  system  to  the  Eomans, 
while  others  maintain  that  we  are  dealing  with  what,  as  Lord 
Dundreary  says,  "no  fellow  can  find  out."  Few  investigators 
hesitate  to  identify  the  Saxon  yard,  for  instance,  with  kindred 
standards  in  ancient  Egypt,  but  they  cannot  conjecture  how  the 
yard  reached  Britain.  The  pound,  not  to  mention  other  units, 
14 


210  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

puts  just  such  a  riddle  to  the  scientists. .  And  as  the  pound  and 
the  yard  had  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  hostile  Egyptian  kings^  we 
find  them  struggling  with  the  sumptuary  legislation  of  Tudor  and 
Plantagenet  sovereigns.  The  standard  of  weights  and  measures 
always  came  out  victorious  in  the  long  run. 

It  would  be  unfair  to  censure  the  monarchs  of  mediaeval  Eu- 
rope too  severely  for  their  rash  interferences  with  standards  of 
weights  and  of  measure.  The  chaos  confronting  them  seemed  to 
ache  for  remedy.  There  were  merchant's  pounds,  avoirdupois 
pounds,  commercial  pounds,  troy  pounds  —  sometimes,  indeed, 
two  independent  sets  of  them.  Yards  tended  to  vary  with  the  cli- 
mate and  liquid  measure  was  modified  in  accordance  not  only 
with  locality,  but  with  the  character  of  the  fluid.  Each  branch  of 
trade  and  commerce  claimed  the  right  to  set  up  its  own  peculiar 
system.  Germany  went  to  extremes,  for  every  petty  state  had  its 
standards.  A  foot  of  four  varying  lengths  plunged  merchants 
into  bankruptcy  and  led  to  wrangles  between  the  miner  and  the 
surveyor,  the  surveyor  and  the  mechanic.  England  had  such  a 
just  grievance  against  her  kings  for  their  arbitrariness  in  dealing 
with  this  sort  of  a  situation  that  a  weights  and  measures  clause 
was  put  into  Magna  Charta.  Statutes  thundered  "that  by  the 
consent  of  the  whole  realm  of  England,  the  measure  of  our  Lord 
the  King  was  made,  viz.,  an  English  penny,  called  a  sterling, 
round  and  without  any  clipping,  shall  weigh  thirty-two  wheat- 
corns  in  the  midst  of  the  ear ;  and  twenty  pence  do  make  an  ounce, 
and  twelve  ounces  a  pound,  and  eight  pounds  do  make  a  gallon 
of  wine,  and  eight  gallons  of  wine  do  make  a  bushel,  which  is  the 
eighth  part  of  a  quarter.^'  This  glimpse  into  confusion  dates 
from  1266,  when  Henry  III.  sat  upon  the  throne  of  England. 
There  was  at  One  time,  too,  a  ^^  Tower  pound,''  which  so  facili- 
tated trickery  that  Henry  VIII.  did  away  with  it.  "Al  maner  of 
golde  and  sylver  shall  be  wayed  by  the  Pounde  Troye,"  which,  he 
was  good  enough  to  explain,  "  maketh  xii.  oz.  Troye."  Monarchs 
in  those  days  had  a  habit  of  bringing  home  systems  of  weight 
•and  measure  from  their  foreign  journeys,  like  souvenirs,  and  forc- 
ing them  upon  not  too  willing  subjects.  Thus  Troy  weight  seems 
to  have  been  introduced  into  England  from  France  as  a  result  of 
the  continental  observations  of  the  Black  Prince.  Thus,  too, 
Peter  the  Great,  haunting  English  shipyards  in  quest  of  ideas, 
sent  back  to  his  empire,  in  addition  to  a  band  of  skilled  workmen. 


THE  METRIC  SYSTEM  211 

the  standard  foot  of  the  western  world,  which  then  officially  took 
the  place  of  the  Eussian  unit  of  length,  the  old  sagene.  The 
foot  is  the  one  feature  in  which  the  native  Muscovite  system 
agrees  with  any  system  in  the  rest  of  the  world.  The  notion 
which  the  mediaeval  monarch  had  of  weights  and  measures  was,  in 
a  word,  as  personal  as  that  of  which  Diedrich  Knickerbocker  tells 
in  'his  account  of  the  commerce  between  the  Indians  and  the 
Nieuw  N'etherlands  pioneers :  "  Every  Dutchman's  hand  weighed 
a  pound,  and  every  Dutchman's  foot  weighed  two  pounds." 

This  real  or  imaginary  identification  of  the  king's  absolutism 
with  a  meteorological  chaos  at  which  commerce  sickened  led  to 
very  important  consequences  in  France.  The  grievances  which  in 
that  distracted  country  finally  led  to  the  great  revolution  of  1789 
had  long  jDressed  with  peculiar  weight  upon  the  very  class  which 
the  whirligig  of  circumstance  placed  in  control  —  the  commer- 
cial class.  Now,  the  weights  and  measures  grievance  was  a  com- 
mercial grievance.  It  had  the  good  fortune  to  connect  itself  in 
the  popular  mind  with  the  anti-monarchical  and  republican  gos- 
pel that  was  so  rapidly  coming  into  vogue.  The  psychological 
moment  had  at  last  arrived  for  the  appearance  of  a  metric  system. 

But  the  genesis  of  the  metric  system  was  English  rather  than 
French.  Some  hundred  years  or  so  prior  to  the  fall  of  the  Bas- 
tile  Sir  James  Stuart,  in  England,  had  outlined  a  decimal  stand- 
ard. Watt,  the  pioneer  of  the  steam-engine,  had  been  fascinated 
by  this  idea,  which  he  urged  upon  his  contemporaries  as  a  happy 
way  of  "  reducing  the  weights  and  measures  to  speak  the  same 
language."  The  foot,  in  particular,  might  be  '^  fixed  by  the  pen- 
dulum and  a  measure  of  water,  and  a  pound  derived  from  that." 
Such  suggestions  lay  dormant  in  the  French  minds  that  had 
absorbed  them  until  the  spirit  of  innovation,  brooding  in  the  revo- 
lutionary atmosphere  of  Paris,  impregnated  them  with  republican 
vitality.  The  Constituent  Assembly  of  1790,  succeeding  the 
States-General  of  1789,  welcomed  the  metrical  idea  as  the  mathe- 
matical symbol  of  the  downfall  of  tyranny  and  referred  it  with 
enthusiasm  to  the  Academy  of  Sciences.  That  delighted  body,  as 
eager  as  the  rest  of  France  to  prepare  for  an  era  of  freedom, 
chose  five  of  its  most  eminent  mathematicians  to  do  justice  to  the 
task.  They  were  Condorcet,  Laplace,  Monge,  Borda  and  La- 
grange. "  The  republic  has  no  use  for  chemists,"  said  the  French 
revolutionists  to  one  of  the  most  brilliant  scientists  of  that  day. 


212  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

But  the  republic  was  to  redeem  itself  by  affording  this  quintette 
of  mathematicians  a  foretaste  of  the  golden  age. 

The  first  point  upon  which  the  five  eminent  thinkers  found 
themselves  able  to  agree  concerned  the  unit  of  length.  It  was 
not  to  correspond  with  any  unit  of  length  then  employed  by  civil- 
ized man.  Otherwise^  there  might  be  jealous}^  in  ever}^  land  but 
that  whose  standard  had  been  tried  and  not  found  wanting.  It 
was  next  determined  that  the  unit  of  leng-th  should  sustain  a  lucid 
relation  to  the  unit  of  weighty,  while  both  must  be  definitely  pro- 
portioned to  the  unit  of  capacity.  How  was  this  paragon  of  a 
unit  to  be  got  hold  of  ? 

A  theory  which  was  old  even  then  and  which  attached  immense 
importance  to  the  length  of  the  pendulum  beating  seconds  explod- 
ed at  once.  The  five  scientists  sat  down  and  watched  pendu- 
lums, estimated  their  own  distance  from  the  equator,  and  decided 
that  the  influence  of  that  imaginary  line,  increasing  as  we  ap- 
proach it,  would  lead  only  to  a  variable  unit.  N'ext  they  sought 
to  ascertain  precisely  what  distance  a  bod}^  falls  in  the  first  second 
of  its  descent,  but  the  law  of  gravitation  gave  even  less  satisfac- 
tion in  the  air  than  it  had  previously  given  in  connection  with  the 
equator.  As  a  last  resort  and  after  disappointments  as  trying  as 
those  which  beset  the  far-reaching  calculations  of  ISTewton,  the 
patient  five  fell  back  upon  the  one  ten-millionth  part  of  a  quad- 
rant of  the  earth's  meridian.  They  might  have  measured  the 
equator  instead  of  a  meridian,  but  it  was  suggested  that  there  is 
only  one  equator  and  all  nations  are  not  on  its  route.  The  mathe- 
maticians were  anxious  to  avoid  occasion,  as  we  have  seen,  for 
jealousy. 

It  took  seven  years,  however,  to  complete  the  trigonometrical 
measurement  of  an  arc  of  the  earth's  meridian,  through  Prance 
from  Dunkirk  to  Barcelona,  and  a  public  throbbing  in  revolution 
was  too  impatient  to  wait.  It  was  urged  that  no  absolutely  correct 
calculation  of  the  kind  in  progress  could  possibly  be  made.  The 
arcs  of  other  meridians  had  been  measured  —  after  a  fashion  — 
and  they  must  be  made  to  provide  the  wonderful  unit.  But  the 
scientists  would  not  be  hurried,  and  they  compromised  by  sending 
in  a  report.  It  delighted  the  National  Assembly  highly.  There 
was  much  enthusiasm  over  the  decimal  scale,  rising  and  falling  by 
tens,  and  over  the  terminology,  based  upon  the  languages  used 
by  the  great  republican  nations  of  antiquity.     The  standard  of 


THE  METRIC  SYSTEM  213 

length  was  to  be  called  the  metre.  It  was  to  be  exactly  one  forty- 
millionth  part  of  the  length  of  the  meridian.  Prefixes,  as  re- 
quired, were  to  be  Greek  for  lengths  greater  than  the  metre  and 
Latin  for  lengths  less  than  the  metre.  That  is  to  say,  the  world 
must  use  deci-  for  tenths,  centi-  for  hundredths,  milli-  for  thou- 
sandths, and  deka-  for  tens,  hecto-  for  hundreds,  kilo-  for  thou- 
sands.   Thus,  as  the  children  in  France  to-day  recite : 

10  millimetres  make  1  centimetre 

10  centimetres  make  1  decimetre 

10  decimetres  make  1  metre 

10  metres  make  1  dekametre 

10  dekametres  make  1  hectometre 

10  hectometres  make  1  kilometre   (or  kilo) 

In  fact,  the  vocabulary  is  the  same  throughout  the  entire  metric 
system,  and  we  have  but  to  state  lengths  in  metres,  weights  in 
grams  and  volumes  in  litres.  The  decimal  prefixes  are  applied  as 
needed — ^milligrams,  millilitres,  and  so  on.  The  N'ational  As- 
sembly listened  to  the  reading  of  these  details  with  attentive 
admiration  and  passed  a  law  authorizing  the  mathematicians  to 
continue  their  ingenious  labors.  But  the  illustrious  Lavoisier, 
who  literally  fell  in  love  with  the  metric  system,  was  sent  to 
execution  by  these  very  revolutionists  in  the  midst  of  his  exer- 
tions on  behalf  of  the  new  standard. 

When  the  five  eminent  scientists  had  hit  upon  the  unit  of 
length  the  Academy  told  ofE  three  eminent  scientists  to  hit  upon 
the  unit  of  weight.  This  trio  —  Lef  evre,  Gineau  and  Fabbroni  — 
incidentally  made  an  important  discovery.  They  came  to  the 
agreement  that  the  unit  of  weight,  for  the  sake  of  the  academic 
beauty  of  the  metric  system,  must  be  as  heavy  as  that  quantity 
of  distilled  water,  at  its  maximum  density,  which  would  fill  the 
cube  of  the  hundredth  part  of  the  metre.  In  this  way  perfect 
interrelation  between  the  weight  unit  and  the  length  unit  would 
be  attained.  Distilled  water  was  experimented  with  upon  the 
assumption  that  at  freezing  point  its  density  would  be  greatest. 
The  water  turned  out  densest  not  at  freezing  point,  but  at  four 
degrees  Centigrade  above  it,  and  that  is  why  the  metric  table 
specifies  this  temperature.  And  to-day  one  may  see  in  a  govern- 
ment museum  at  Paris  the  tiny  cylinder  by  means  of  which  the 
three  wise  men  ascertained  the  weight  of  its  contents  in  a  vacuum. 


:i4 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


As  regards  the  unit  of  capacity,  the  liter,  although  its  formulas 
can  be  set  forth  in  abstruse  mathematical  style,  it  is  really  noth- 
ing more  complicated  than  "  a  measure  containing  a  kilogram 
weight  of  distilled  water  at  its  maximum  density/^  Distilled 
water,  it  may  be  noted,  was  used  in  the  determination  of  units  on 
account  of  its  homogeneity  and  because  its  density  at  any  given 
temperature  does  not  vary.  How  well  the  original  calculations 
were  made  is  attested  by  the  fact  that  no  subsequent  mathema- 
ticians have  discredited  the  foundations  of  the  metric  system. 
Here  are  some  tables  (p.  214)  of  equivalents  in  our  own  custo- 
mary standards  of  weight  and  measure  as  given  in  the  act  of 
Congress  which,  in  1866,  legalized,  without  making  compulsory, 
the  use  of  the  system  in  our  republic. 


MEASURES  OF  LENGTH. 


Metric  Denomi 

NATIONS    AND    VALUES. 

Equivalents  in  Denominations  in  Use. 

Myriametre 

Kilometre    

Hectometre     

Dekametre     

10,000  metres. 
1,000  metres. 
100  metres. 
10  metres. 
1  metre. 
1-10  of  a  metre. 
. .     1-100  of  a  metre. 
.  .   1-1000  of  a  metre. 

6.2137     miles. 

0.62137  mile,  or  3,280  feet  10  inches. 
328               feet  1  inch. 
393.7            inches. 
39.37         inches. 

Decimetre    

Centimetre    

Millimetre     

3.937       inches. 
0.3937     inch. 
0.0394     inch. 

WEIGHTS. 


Metric  Denominations  and  Values. 

Equivalents    in    De- 
nominations 
IN    Use. 

Names. 

Number 

of 
Grams. 

Weight   of   What    Quantity 
of    Water    at    Maxi- 
mum  Density. 

Avoirdupois   Weight. 

Miller  or  tonneau. 
Quintal 

1,000,000 

100,000 

10,000 

1,000 

100 

10 

1-100 
I           1-1000 

2204.6        pounds. 
220.46      pounds. 

1    hectolitre 

Myriagram   

Kilogram  or  kilo.  . 

Hectogram    

Dekagram    

Gram 

Decigram   

Centigram    

Milligram    

10   litres 

22.046    pounds. 

1  litre      

2.2046  pounds. 

3.5274  ounces. 

10   cubic   centimetres 

1    cubic   centimetre 

1-10  of  a  cubic  centimetre. 

10    cubic    millimetres 

1    cubic    millimetre .. 

0.3527  ounce. 
15.432    grains. 
1.5432  grains. 
0.1543  grain. 
0.0154  grain. 

THE  METRIC  SYSTEM 


215 


MEASURES  OF 

CAPACITY. 

Metric  Denominations  and  Values. 

Equivalents  in  D 

enominations  in  Use. 

Names. 

Num- 
ber of 
Lit- 
res. 

Cubic  Measure. 

Dry   Measure. 

Liquid     or     Wine 
Measure. 

Kilolitre   or 

stere    

Hectolitre   .... 

Dekalitre 

Litre   

Decilitre    

1,000 
100 

10 
1 
1-10 

1-100 
1-1000 

1    cubic   metre 

1-10   of  a  cubic  metre 

10   cubic  decimetres.  . 
1  cubic  decimetre.  .  .  . 
1-10    of   a   cubic    deci- 
metre      

1.308  cubic  yards 
2   bush,    and   3.35 

pecks    

9.08   quarts 

0.908  quart 

6.1022    cubic 

inches  

0.6102  cubic  inch 
0.061  cubic  inch. 

264.17      gallons. 
26.417    gallons. 

2.6417  gallons.  ' 
1.0567  quarts. 

0.845    gill. 

0.338    fluid  oz. 
0.27      fluid  dram 

Centilitre    

Millilitre   

10    cubic   centimetres. 
1     cubic    centimetre.. 

It  is  easy  to  leap  to  the  conclusion^  after  running  the  eye  over 
tables  like  these^  that  a  system  so  pellucid  in  its  clearness  must 
win  its  way  anywhere.  But  it  had  a  struggle  for  existence  in  the 
land  of  its  birth.  It  was  only  provisionally  adopted  by  law  in 
1793.  The  beautiful  Greek  and  Latin  wording  had  to  wait  until 
the  first  French  republic  was  three  years  old  before  the  seal  of 
legal  approval  was  set  upon  it.  It  then  seemed,  indeed,  as  if  the 
old  order  had  passed  forever.  Here  were  metres  and  grams  and 
litres  supplanting  the  units  that  had  come  down  from  the  Egyp- 
tians to  the  people  that  were  doing  away  with  kings  and  estab- 
lishing a  republican  calendar  of  their  own.  For  the  French  re- 
public sanctioned  the  metric  system  on  "  18th  Germinal,  Year 
III.^'  But  the  republic  was  seven  years  old  before  the  definitive 
metre,  marked  on  a  platinum  bar,  was  deposited  in  solemn  state, 
amid  martial  strains,  in  the  Palace  of  the  Archives,  followed  by  a 
retinue  of  commissioners  from  ten  approving  governments. 

But  these  governments  had  all  been  brought  under  the  influ- 
ence, for  the  time  being,  of  the  new  French  ideas.  Great  Britain 
would  not  hear  of  the  metric  system,  emanating,  as  it  did,  from 
a  nation  which  preached  the  end  of  kings  and  the  abolition  of 
privilege  and  caste.  ^N'either  could  the  metres,  grams  and  litres 
gain  the  sanction  of  adherents  of  the  old  order  in  France  itself. 
The  metric  system,  in  fact,  had  "  got  into  politics,"  and  when 
the  great  Napoleon  tried  to  effect  a  compromise  between  the  new 
measures  and  the  ancient  scales  there  ensued  an  era  of  chaos.  A 
fresh  generation  had  appeared  by  the  year  1840,  however,  and  the 
metric  system  then  came  legally  into  its  own.  Not  an  inch  of 
ground  has  it  ever  lost,  for,  with  perfections  and  extensions,  its 


216 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


use  is  obligatory  in  all  civilized  lands  to-day  except  Eussia^  Great 
Britain  and  her  colonies,  the  United  States  and  Japan.  In 
every  one  of  these  nations,  nevertheless,  the  nse  of  the  metric 
system  has  been  legalized. 

The  advantages  of  the  metric  system  consist  primarily  in  its 
decimal  base,  the  relation  sustained  to  one  another  by  its  units, 
the  simplicity  of  the  terms  it  employs,  the  absolute  accuracy  of 
its  standards,  the  readiness  with  which  it  can  be  learned,  the  facil- 
ity of  calculation  it  affords,  its  adaptability  to  the  purposes  of 
commerce  no  less  than  the  purposes  of  science,  and  its  interna- 
tional character.  It  has  the  striking  merit,  too,  of  facilitating 
its  own  adoption  by  nations  which  still  cling  to  the  pint  and  the 
peck,  the  pound  and  the  ell.  Lord  Kelvin,  a  stout  champion  of 
the  metric  system,  avers  that  whatever  difficulty  might  be  caused 
in  shops,  in  factories  or  in  engineering  establishments,  were  the 
metric  system  adopted  in  England  to-morrow,  would  in  a  few 
weeks'  time  be  compensated  for  by  the  diminution  of  labor  which 
the  change  would  produce. .  As  it  is,  British  importers  and 
exporters  must  reduce  yards,  tons  and  hogsheads  to  metres,  grams 
and  litres  with  an  amount  of  calculation  of  which  the  following 
table  gives  some  idea: 


PRECISE  EQUIVALENTS. 


1  acre 

1  bushel 

1  centimetre. . 

1  cubic  cent. . 

1  cubic  foot.  .  . 

1  cubic    inch . . 

1  cubic  metre. 

1  cubic   metre. 

1  cubic   yard. . 


foot. 

gallon : 

grain ■ 

gram = 

hectar ■■ 

inch : 

1    kilo = 

1    kilometre ■ 

1    litre ■■ 

1    litre ■■ 

1    metre = 

1    mile ■■ 

1  millimetre.  .  .  .  : 
1  ounce  (av'd) .  ■ 
1    ounce    (Troy) ■ 

1   peck ■■ 

1    pint ■■ 

1    pound    

1  quart  (dry)  .  .  ■■ 
1  quart  (liquid)  ■■ 
1   sq.   centimetre  ■ 

1  sq.   foot : 

1    sq.    inch ■ 

1    sq.    metre . . . .  : 


.40  hectar     4047 

35  litres    35.24 

.39  inch    3937 

.061  cubic   inch    .  .  .-     .0610 

.028  cubic     metre..      .0283 

16  cubic     cent,  t  16.39 

35  cubic    feet 35.31 

1.3  cubic    yards..  .    1.308 

.76  cubic     metre..      .7645 

30  centimetres  ..  .30.48 
3.8  litres    3.785 

.065  gram 0648 

15  grains    15.43 

:    2.5  acres     2.471 

25  millimetres   ..  .25.40 

:    2.2  pounds    2.205 

.62  m,ile    6214 

.91  quart     (dry) . .      .9081 

:    1.1  quarts    (liq'd)  .    1.057 

3.3  feet     3.281 

:    1.6  kilometres    ...  .    1.609 

.039  inch    0394 

:28  grams    28.35 

31  grams    31.10 

:    8.8  litres    8.809 

:      .47  litre    4732 

=     .45  kilo    4536 

:    1.1  litres     1.101 

.95  litre    9464 

.15  sq.    inch 1560 

.093  sq.    'metre 0929 

:    6.5  sq.   centimetres  6.452 

:    1.2  sq.    yards 1.196 


THE  METRIC  SYSTEM  217 

PRECISE  EQUIVALENTS. 

1    sq.    metre =11  sq.     feet 10.76 

1    sq.    yard =  .84  sq.    metre 8361 

1  t'n  (2,000  lbs.)  =  .91  metric    ton 9072 

1  t'n  (2,240  lbs.)  =  1  metric  ton 1.017       \ 

1    ton    (metric) .  =  1.1  ton    (2,000  lbs)   1,102 

1    ton    (metric) .  =  .98  ton    (2,240  lbs)      .9842 

1    yard =  .91  metre     9144 

"  I  was  in  Germany  during  the  change  there/'  writes  Sir  W. 
Eamsay  of  the  days  when  the  metric  system  was  still  a  novelty 
in  that  empire,  "  and  it  gave  no  trouble  whatever  and  was  recog- 
nized in  a  week."  It  has  been  calculated  that  about  a  year  would 
be  saved  in  the  school  life  of  every  American  child  were  the  metric 
system  adopted  in  the  United  States.  A  very  determined  effort 
was  made  in  England  in  1904  to  secure  the  adoption  of  the  system 
by  Parliament.  The  Prime  Minister  of  the  day,  Mr.  Balfour, 
and  a  former  Prime  Minister,  Lord  Rosebery,  avowed  their  pref- 
erence for  the  metric  system,  but  it  would  be  too  venturesome  to 
predict  the  triumiDh  of  the  metre  in  the  British  Isles  as  a  thing 
of  the  immediate  .future.  In  our  own  country  the  adoption  of 
the  system  has  been  urged  by  men  of  learning  and  distinction 
for  generations.  Our  own  government,  in  fact,  contributes  to 
the  support  of  the  metric  standard,  for  it  subscribed  for  one  of 
the  two-score  or  more  duplicate  sets  of  the  platinum  and  iridium 
models  distributed  among  the  nations.  The  United  States  has 
also  sent  delegates  to  the  International  Metric  Commission. 

This  body,  at  its  meeting  in  1872,  was  impressed  by  the  fact 
that  if  the  original  standard  metre  preserved  at  Paris  were 
destroyed  or  mislaid,  no  exact  duplicate  of  it  could  be  made.  It 
is  true  that  the  length  of  this  father  of  metres  had  been  ascer- 
tained after  seven  patient  years  of  measurement  of  the  arc  of  a 
meridian.  On  the  other  hand,  no  absolutely  exact  measurement 
of  this  sort  is  possible  to  fallible  mankind.  The  original  must, 
therefore,  be  duplicated  or  the  metric  system  might  be  compro- 
mised. It  was,  therefore,  determined  that  every  nation  using 
the  metric  system  should  be  furnished  with  an  exact  reproduc- 
tion of  the  prototype  metre  bar.  The  prototype  itself  was  also 
duplicated,  or,  rather,  provided  with  a  substitute,  and  arrange- 
ments were  even  made  for  a  third  similar  bar  maintained  at  an 
invariable  temperature  in  a  vacuum.  Hence  it  transpires  that 
the  metre  is  to-day  legally  defined  as  the  distance  between  two 
lines  on  the  iridio-platinum  bar  preserved  at  the  International 
Bureau  of  Weights  and  Measures,  which  is  established  at  Sevres, 


218  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

not  far  from  Paris.     One  of  the  duplicates  is  in  the  Bureau  of 
Standards  at  Washington. 

Beyond  such  sympathetic  association  with  the  metre  as  this,  our 
government  has  never  gone.  This  is  attributable,  doubtless  to  the 
fact  that  we  occupy  a  roomy  continent  apart  from  the  interna- 
tional action  and  reaction  of  the  compactly  placed  nations  of 
continental  Europe.  We  have  not  been  obliged,  like  the  English, 
to  reduce  metres  to  yards  and  grams  to  pounds  until  our  patience 
reached  its  limits.  The  growth  in  our  foreign  trade  must,  how- 
ever, give  new  point  to  the  suggestions  regarding  the  metric  sys- 
tem which  appear  so  often  in  our  consular  reports.  There  will 
in  time  spring  up  as  formidable  an  agitation  for  tlie  adoption  of 
the  metre,  gram  and  litre  by  the  United  States  as  any  which  agi- 
tates England.  Such  a  movement  could  rest  its  case  upon  the 
judgment  of  some  of  the  greatest  names  in  our  national  annals. 
"The  great  utility  of  a  standard,'^  wrote  President  Madison, 
"fixed  in  its  nature,  and  founded  on  the  easy  rule  of  decimal 
proportions,  is  sufficiently  obvious."  "  Considered  merely  as  a 
labor-saving  device,"  declared  John  Quincy  Adams  of  the  metric 
system,  '^  it  is  a  new  power  offered  to  man  incomparably  greater 
than  that  which  he  has  acquired  by  the  new  agency  which  he 
has  given  to  steam.  It  is  in  design  the  greatest  invention  of 
human  ingenuity  since  that  of  printing." 


ALFRED  RUSSEL    WALLACE. 


MAN'S  PLACE  IN  THE  UNIVERSE  219 


MAN'S  PLACE  IN  THE  UNIVERSE. 

As  Indicated  hy  the  Neim  Astronamy, 
By  ALFRED  RUSSEL  WALLACE. 

TO  the  early  astronomers  the  earth  was  the  center  of  the  visi- 
ble universe,  sun,  moon,  planets,  and  stars  all  alike  revolv- 
ing around  it  in  more  or  less  eccentric  and  complex  orbits ; 
and  all  were  naturally  thought  to  exist  as  appendages  to  our  globe, 
and  for  the  sole  use  and  enjoyment  of  man  —  *^  the  sun  to  rule 
by  day,  the  moon  and  the  stars  to  rule  by  night."  But  when  the 
Copemican  system  became  established,  and  it  was  found  that  our 
earth  was  not  specially  distinguished  from  the  other  planets  by 
any  superiority  of  size  or  position,  it  was  seen  that  our  pride  of 
place  must  be  given  up.  And,  later,  when  the  discoveries  of  New- 
ton and  of  the  many  brilliant  astronomers  who  succeeded  him, 
together  with  the  ever-widening  knowledge  derived  from  the 
growing  power  and  perfection  of  the  telescope  and  of  improved 
astronomical  instruments,  showed  us  the  utter  insignificance  even 
of  our  sun  and  solar  system  among  the  countless  hosts  of  stars 
and  the  myriads  of  clusters  and  nebulge,  we  seemed  to  be  driven 
to  the  other  extreme,  and  to  be  forced  to  recognize  the  fact  that 
this  vast,  stupendous  universe  could  have  no  special  relation  to 
ourselves,  any  more  than  to  any  other  of  the  millions  of  suns  and 
systems,  many  of  which  were  probably  far  grander  and  more 
important  than  ours,  and  perhaps  fitted  to  be  the  abode  of  more 
highly  organized  beings. 

During  the  last  half  century,  and  perhaps  much  longer,  popu- 
lar writers  have  often  dealt  with  the  problem  of  the  habitability 
of  the  planets  by  intelligent  beings  and  the  probability  of  other 
suns  being  attended  by  other  trains  of  planets  similarly  inhab- 
ited, and  the  most  diverse  and  even  opposing  views  have  been 
held  as  to  the  inferences  to  be  drawn  from  these  supposed  facts. 
Sir  David  Brewster  held  them  to  be  almost  essential  to  an  ade- 


220  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

quate  conception  of  the  power  and  wisdom  of  the  Deity  and  in 
some  way  bound  up  with  the  doctrines  of  Christianity,  and  this 
has  been  the  view  of  many  of  the  teachers  of  religion.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  tendency  of  all  recent  astronomical  research  has 
been  to  give  us  wider  views  of  the  vastness,  the  variety,  and  the 
marvelous  complexity  of  the  stellar  universe,  and  proportionally 
to  reduce  the  importance  of  our  little  speck  of  earth  almost  to 
the  vanishing  point,  and  this  has  been  made  use  of  by  the  more 
aggressive  among  modern  skeptics  to  hold  up  religious  creeds 
and  dogmas  to  scorn  and  contempt.  They  point  out  the  irration- 
ality and  absurdity  of  supposing  that  the  Creator  of  all  this  unim- 
aginable vastness  of  suns  and  systems,  filling,  for  all  we  know, 
endless  space,  should  have  any  special  interest  in  so  pitiful  a  crea- 
ture as  man,  the  degraded  or  imperfectly  developed  inhabitant  of 
one  of  the  smaller  planets  attached  to  a  second  or  third  rate  sun ; 
while  that  He  should  have  selected  this  little  world  for  the  scene 
of  the  tremendous  and  necessarily  unique  sacrifice  of  His  Son, 
in  order  to  save  a  portion  of  these  "  miserable  sinners "  from 
the  natural  consequences  of  their  sins  was,  in  their  view,  a  crown- 
ing absurdity  too  incredible  to  be  believed  by  any  rational  being. 
And  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  theologians  had  no  adequate 
reply  to  this  rude  attack;  while  many  of  them  have  felt  their 
position  to  be  untenable,  and  have  renounced  the  idea  of  a 
special  revelation  and  a  supreme  saviour  for  the  exclusive  benefit 
of  so  minute  and  insignificant  a  speck  in  the  universe. 

But,  during  the  last  quarter  of  the  past  century,  the  rapidly 
increasing  body  of  facts  and  observations,  leading  to  a  more 
detailed  and  accurate  knowledge  of  stars  and  stellar  systems,  have 
thrown  a  new  and  somewhat  unexpected  light  on  this  very  inter- 
esting problem  of  our  relation  to  the  universe  of  which  we  form 
a  part ;  and  although  these  discoveries  have,-  of  course,  no  bear- 
ing upon  the  special  theological  dogmas  of  the  Christian,  or 
of  any  other  religion,  they  do  tend  to  show  that  our  position  in 
the  material  universe  is  special  and  probably  unique,  and  that 
it  is  such  as  to  lend  support  to  the  view,  held  by  many  great 
thinkers  and  writers  to-day,  that  the  supreme  end  and  purpose 
of  this  vast  universe  was  the  production  and  development  of  the 
living  soul  in  the  perishable  body  of  man. 

The  Agnostics  and  Materialists  will  no  doubt  object  that  the 
want  of  all  proportion  between  the  means  and  the  end  condemns 


MAN'S  PLACE  IN  THE  UNIVERSE  221 

this  theory  from  its  very  foundation.  But  is  there  any  such  want 
of  proportion  ?  Given  infinite  space  and  infinite  time,  and  there 
can  be  no  such  thing  as  want  of  proportion,  if  the  end  to  be 
reached  were  a  great  and  a  worthy  one  and  if  the  particular 
mode  of  attaining  that  end  w^ere  the  best,  or,  perhaps,  even  the 
only  possible  one ;  and  we  may  fairly  presume  that  it  was  so  by 
the  fact  that  it  has  been  used,  and  has  succeeded.  The  develop- 
ment of  man  as  a  spiritual  being,  with  all  his  intellectual  powers 
and  moral  possibilities,  is  certainly  a  great  end  in  itself,  so  great 
and  so  noble  that  if  a  universe  of  matter  and  ether  as  large  as 
that  of  which  we  have  now  obtained  some  definite  knowledge  were 
required  for  the  work  why  should  it  not  be  used?  Of  course,  I 
am  taking  the  view  of  those  who  believe  in  some  Intelligent  Cause 
at  the  back  of  this  universe,  some  creator  or  creators,  designer 
or  designers.  For  those  who  take  the  other  view,  that  matter 
and  ether,  with  all  the  laws  and  forces  without  which  they  could 
not  exist  for  a  moment,  are,  in  their  essential  nature,  eternal  and 
self -existent,  no  such  objection  is  tenable.  For  the  produc- 
tion of  life  and  of  man  then  becomes  merely  a  question  of  chance 
—  of  the  right  and  exact  combination  of  matter  and  its  complex 
forces  occurring  after  an  almost  infinite  number  of  combina- 
tions that  led  to  nothing.  On  this  view  the  argument  as  to 
our  unique  position,  derived  from  the  discoveries  of  the  New 
Astronomy,  is  even  more  forcible,  though  hardly  so  satisfactory, 
because  it  also  teaches  us  that  if  man  is  a  product  of  blind  forces 
and  unconscious  laws  acting  upon  non-living  matter,  then,  as  he 
has  been  produced  by  physical  law,  so  he  will  die  out  by  the  con- 
tinued operation  of  the  same  laws,  against  which  there  is  no 
appeal.  These  laws  of  nature  have  been  finely  described  in  the 
late  Grant  Allen's  striking  philosophical  poem,  which  he  has  enti- 
tled "  Magdalen  Towers,^'  and  which  was  written  when  he  was 
an  undergraduate  at  Oxford: — 

"  They  care  not  any  whit  for  pain  or  pleasure, 

That  seems  to  us  the  sum  and  end  of  all, 
Dumb  force  and  barren  number  are  their  measure, 

What  shall  be  shall  be  though  the  great  earth  fall. 
They  take  no  heed  of  man  or  man's  deserving, 

Reck  not  what  happy  lives  they  make  or  mar, 
Work  out  their  fatal  will  unswerv'd,  unswerving. 

And  know  not  that  they  are!  " 


222  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

It  is  the  object  of  the  present  paper  to  set  forth  the  nature  of 
the  evidence  bearing  upon  man's  position  in  the  universe,  and 
to  summarize  the  various  lines  of  research  that  converge  to  render 
it  at  least  a  thinkable  and  rational  hypothesis.  Although  most  of 
the  facts  and  conclusions  are  well  known  separatel}-,  and  have 
been  set  forth  by  both  scientific  and  popular  writers,  I  am  not 
aware  that  they  have  been  combined,  as  I  now  attempt  to  combine 
them,  or  the  conclusions  drawn  from  them  which  seem  to  me  to 
be  the  obvious  ones. 

ARE  THE  STARS  INFINITE  IN  NUMBER? 

It  has  often  been  suggested  that  the  stars  are  infinite  in  num- 
ber, and  that  the  stellar  universe  is  therefore  infinite  in  extent; 
and  if  the  preponderance  of  evidence  pointed  in  this  direction  our 
inquiry  would  be  useless,  because  as  regards  infinity  there  can  be 
no  difference  of  position.  In  whatever  part  of  it  we  may  be  situ- 
ated, that  part  can  be  no  nearer  the  center  than  any  other  part. 
Infinite  space  has  been  well  defined  as  a  circle,  or,  rather,  a 
sphere,  whose  center  is  everywhere  and  circumference  nowhere. 

As  the  telescope  increased  in  efficiency  through  the  labors  of 
Dollond  and  Herschel,  it  was  found  that  every  increase  of  power 
and  of  light,  due  to  increased  diameter  of  object-glass  or  mirror, 
greatly  increased  the  number  of  visible  stars,  and  this  increase 
went  on  with  approximate  equality  of  rate  till  the  largest  modern 
telescopes  were  nearly  reached.  But,  latterly,  increased  size  and 
power  has  revealed  new  stars  in  a  smaller  and  smaller  proportion, 
indicating  that  we  are  approaching  the  outer  limits  of  the  starry 
system.  This  conclusion  is  further  enforced  by  the  fact  that  the 
numerous  dark  patches  in  the  heavens,  where  hardly  any  stars 
are  visible,  and  those  seen  are  projected  on  an  intensely  dark 
background,  as  in  the  "  Coal-sacks  "  of  the  southern  hemisphere 
and  rifts  and  channels  in  the  Milk}^  Way  itself,  continue  to  pre- 
sent the  same  features  in  telescopes  of  the  very  highest  powers  as 
they  do  in  those  of  very  moderate  size.  This  could  not  possibly 
happen  if  stars  were  infinite  in  number,  or  even  if  they  extended 
in  similar  profusion  into  spaces  very  much  greater  than  those 
to  which  our  telescopes  can  reach,  because,  in  that  case,  these  dark 
backgrounds  would  be  illuminated  by  the  light  of  millions  of 
stars  so  distant  as  to  be  separately  invisible,  as  in  the  case  of 


MAN'S  PLACE  IN  THE  UNIVERSE  223 

the  Milky  Way  itself.  The  only  other  explanation  would  be  that 
the  star  system  is  penetrated  in  several  directions  by  perfectly 
straight  tunnels  of  enormous  length,  compared  with  their  diam- 
eter, in  which  no  stars  exist,  and  this  is  considered  to  be  so  im- 
probable as  to  be  unworthy  of  consideration. 

The  same  conclusion  is  reached  by  means  of  that  powerful 
engine  of  research,  the  photographic  plate.  When  this  is  exposed 
in  the  focus  of  a  telescope  for  three  hours,  a  much  greater  num- 
ber of  stars  are  revealed  than  any  telescopic  vision  can  detect,  but 
longer  exposures  add  less  and  less  to  the  number,  again  indicating 
that  the  limit  of  stars  in  that  direction  is  nearly  reached. 

Yet  again,  the  method  of  counting  the  stars  of  the  various 
astronomical  magnitudes  gives  a  similar  result.  At  each  lesser 
magnitude  the  number  of  stars  is  about  three  times  greater  than 
that  of  the  next  higher  magnitude,  and  this  rule  applies  with 
tolerable  accuracy  down  to  those  of  the  ninth  magnitude.  The 
total  number  of  visible  stars  from  the  first  to  the  ninth  magnitude 
is  about  200,000.  Now  if  this  rate  of  increase  continued  down 
to  the  seventeenth  magnitude,  the  faintest  visible  in  the  best 
modern  telescopes  would  be  about  1,400,000,000.  But  both  tele- 
scopic observation  and  photographic  charts  show  that  there  is 
nothing  approaching  this  number,  it  being  estimated  that  the 
total  number  thus  visible  does  not  exceed  100,000,000  —  again 
proving  that  as  our  instruments  reach  further  and  further  into 
space,  the}^  find  a  continuous  diminution  in  the  number  of  stars, 
thus  indicating  an  approach  to  the  outer  limits  of  the  stellar 
universe. 

But  perhaps  the  most  striking  proof  of  the  limited  extent  of 
the  universe  of  luminous  stars  is  that  dependent  on  the  laws  of 
light.  This  has  been  long  known  to  physicists,  and  it  has  been 
very  clearly  and  briefly  stated  by  Professor  Simon  ISTewcomb,  one 
of  the  profoundest  mathematical  astronomers.  He  tells  us  to 
imagine  a  series  of  concentric  spheres,  each  the  same  distance 
apart  from  the  first,  which  includes  only  the  stars  visible  to  the 
naked  eye.  The  space  between  each  pair  of  these  spheres  will 
be  in  extent  proportional  to  the  squares  of  the  diameters  of  the 
spheres  that  limit  it ;  and  as  the  light  we  receive  from  each  star 
is  inversely  proportional  to  its  distance  from  us,  it  follows  that  if 
each  region  were  equally  strewn  with  stars  of  the  same  average 
brightness,  then  w^e  should  receive  the  same  amount  of  light  from 


224  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

each  region,  the  diminution  of  light  from  each  star  being  exactly 
compensated  by  the  vastly  greater  numbers  in  each  successively 
larger  sphere.  Hence  it  follows  that  if  these  concentric  spheres 
were  infinite  we  should  receive  an  infinite  amount  of  light  from 
them,  and  even  if  we  make  an  ample  allowance  for  stoppage  of 
light  by  intervening  dark  bodies,  or  by  cosmic  dust,  or  by  imper- 
fect transparency  of  the  ether,  we  should  at  least  receive  quite 
as  much  light  from  them  as  the  sun  gives  us  at  noonday.  But 
the  amount  we  actually  receive  is  so  immensely  less  than  this 
as  to  prove  that  the  concentric  spheres  of  stars  beyond  those 
visible  to  the  naked  e3^e  cannot  be  very  numerous.  For  the  total 
light  of  all  the  stars  is  estimated  to  be  not  more  than  about  one- 
fortieth  of  moonlight,  which  is  itself  only  about  one  five-hundred- 
thousandth  of  sunlight.  This  proof  of  the  limited  extent  of 
the  stellar  universe  is,  therefore,  a  very  forcible  one,  and  taken 
in  connection  with  that  afforded  by  telescopic  research,  as  already 
described,  is  altogether  conclusive. 

We  have  next  to  consider  the  facts  known  as  to  the  distribu- 
tion and  arrangement  of  the  stars,  and  the  conclusions  to  be 
drawn   therefrom. 

THE  DISTRIBUTIOIT  OF  THE  STARS  IN"   SPACE. 

The  first  great  fact  bearing  upon  this  subject  is,  that  a  large 
nnmber  of  stars  are  not  "  fixed,^^  as  was  universally  believed  down 
to  the  eighteenth  century,  but  that  many  of  them,  and  probably 
all,  have  proper  motions  of  their  own.  These  motions  are  very 
small,  and  can  only  be  detected  by  observations  continued  for 
many  years.  The  most  rapid  motion  yet  observed  is  that  of  a 
small  star  of  6%  magnitude  in  the  Constellation  Ursa  Major, 
which  moves  seven  seconds  of  arc  per  annum,  while  others  move 
only  this  amount  in  a  century,  and  all  but  a  few  less  than  a 
second  per  annum.  The  proper  motions  of  several  thousand  stars 
have  now  been  determined.  These  motions  are  in  every  possible 
direction,  but  it  has  been  recently  discovered  that  considerable 
groups  of  stars  often  move  in  the  same  direction  and  at  the  same 
rate.  The  Pleiades  exhibit  this  phenomenon,  but  much  larger 
groups  have  the  same  kind  of  motion,  and  this  has  led  to  the 
theory  that  in  certain  parts  of  the  heavens  there  is  a  star-drift 
in  fixed  directions.     Our  sun  is  now  known  to  have  its  own 


MAN'S  PLACE  IN  THE  UNIVERSE  225 

"  proper  motion,"  the  direction  and  rate  of  which  has  been  deter- 
mined approximately.  This  will,  of  course,  produce  an  apparent 
movement  in  all  the  stars,  except  those  situated  exactly  in  the 
line  of  our  motion,  and  the  displacement  thus  caused  has  to  be 
allowed  for  in  determining  the  true  motion  of  the  stars  in  space. 
Should  any  of  the  stars  be  moving  obliquely  towards  us,  we  shall 
only  perceive  that  portion  of  the  motion  which  is  at  right  angles 
to  the  direction  ol  the  star  from  us,  but  the  beautiful  method 
of  determining  motion  in  the  line  of  sight  by  means  of  the  spec- 
troscope has  overcome  this  difficulty,  and  by  its  means  we  now 
know  the  real  motion  of  many  stars,  both  in  direction  and  veloc- 
ity, when  we  have  been  able  to  measure  their  distance  from  us. 

This  measurement  of  the  distance  of  the  stars  is  the  most 
difficult  of  all  the  instrumental  determinations  of  modern  astron- 
omy, both  on  account  of  the  extreme  remoteness  of  most  of  them 
and  because,  owing  to  the  motions  of  the  stars  themselves,  we 
have  no  fixed  point  from  which  to  determine  changes  of  position. 

Most  people  know  that  by  means  of  a  measured  base-line  the 
distances  of  very  remote  and  inaccessible  objects  can  be  deter- 
mined with  considerable  accuracy,  depending  upon  the  length  of 
the  base  and  its  careful  measurement,  and  equally  upon  the 
extremely  accurate  measurement  of  the  angles  taken  at  each 
extremity  of  the  base.  It  is  in  this  way  that  the  position  of 
mountain  peaks  is  determined,  as  well  as  the  distances  across 
narrow  seas,  while  all  civilized  countries  have  been  trigonomet- 
rically  surveyed  in  this  manner. 

In  the  case  of  the  stars  the  base-line  used  is  the  diameter  of 
the  earth's  orbit,  more  than  180,000,000  of  miles.  Every  six 
months  we  are  at  opposite  ends  of  this  base,  and  if  we  had  any 
absolutely  fixed  point  in  the  heavens,  in  the  right  position,  from 
which  to  take  our  angles,  we  could  in  this  way  determine  the  dis- 
tance of  some  of  the  stars.  But  as  almost  all  the  stars  are 
moving  at  various  rates  and  in  various  directions,  as  our  sun 
itself  is  moving,  and  as  the  proper  motions  of  the  stars  can  only 
be  determined  in  relation  to  other  stars,  there  is  everywhere  a 
complication  of  opposing  motions,  and  nowhere  the  assured  fixity 
we  require  for  such  delicate  measurements.  But  notwithstanding 
all  these  difficulties,  astronomers  have  by  various  ingenious  meth- 
ods now  measured  the  distances  of  a  number  of  stars  with  con- 
siderable precision,  notwithstanding  the  failures  of  their  prede- 


226  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

cessors  for  nearly  two  centuries.  The  nearest  of  all  the  stars  are 
so  remote  that  the  distance  between  the  earth  and  the  sun  as 
seen  from  the  star  would  subtend  an  angle  of  considerably  less 
than  one  second  of  arc,  while  most  of  those  measured  are  so  exces- 
sively distant  that  this  angle  is  often  one-tenth  of  a  second  or 
even  considerably  less.  To  understand  how  small  a  quantity  this 
is  and  what  a  distance  it  implies,  it  may  be  stated  that,  viewed  at 
a  mile  distant,  the  small  letter  o  in  this  page  would  subtend  an 
angle  of  about  one-tenth  of  a  second.  From  a  star  of  an  average 
distance  from  us,  therefore,  the  earth  and  sun,  if  they  could  be 
seen,  would  appear  only  as  far  apart  as  the  opposite  sides  of  the 
letter  o  when  a  mile  away  from  us.  But  stars  twice  as  far  as 
these  have  been  measured,  it  is  believed  with  some  degree  of 
certainty,  and  the  distances  of  about  sixty  stars  have  now  been 
satisfactorily  ascertained. 

It  was  long  supposed  that  the  brightest  stars  were  the  nearest 
to  us,  but  it  is  now  known  that  there  is  little  or  no  relation 
between  brightness  or  magnitude  and  distance.  The  nearest  star 
yet  measured  is,  indeed,  a  very  bright  one  in  the  Southern  Hemi- 
sphere, Alpha  Centauri,  but  one  almost  as  near,  61  Cygni,  is 
of  the  fifth  magnitude  only,  and  another  still  nearer  in  the  con- 
stellation, Piscis  Australis,  is  of  the  seventh  magnitude.  Other 
stars  of  the  first  magnitude  which  have  had  their  distances  meas- 
ured have  a  parallax  of  considerably  less  than  one-tenth  of  a 
second,  and  are,  therefore,  among  the  remoter  stars. 

The  true  relation,  as  was  long  suspected  theoretically,  is  be- 
tween proper  motion  and  distance,  those  which  move  fastest  being 
nearest  to  us.  It  is  as  if,  from  a  mountain-top,  we  observed  ships 
at  sea  from  two  or  three  miles  to  forty  or  fifty  miles  distant, 
and  kept  a  record  of  their  angular  movements.  All  might  be 
really  moving  at  not  very  different  speeds  —  from  five  to  perhaps 
fifteen  or  twenty  miles  an  hour,  yet  while  some  would  appear  to 
niove  rapidly  others  would  seem  to  be  almost  stationary,  and 
this  would  depend  almost  entirely  on  their  distance  from  the 
observer.  So  with  the  stars.  All  may  have,  and  probably  have, 
real  motions  which  do  not  differ  very  greatly  in  rapidity,  but 
only  in  those  which  are  comparatively  near  us  can  we  detect  any 
motion  at  all.  This  theoretical  conclusion  being  confirmed  by  all 
the  stars,  whose  distances  have  been  measured,  we  have  a  most 
valuable  and  trustworthy  means  of  ascertaining  their  compara- 


MAN'S  PLACE  IN  THE  UNIVERSE  227 

tive  distances  from  us,  since  those  wliose  proper  motions  are  either 
exceedingly  small  or  cannot  be  detected  at  all,  are  certainly  very 
much  farther  from  us  than  those  which  have  well-marked  and 
large,  proper  motions.  It  is  by  such  indications  that  we  are 
enabled  to  arrive  at  some  definite  conclusions  as  to  the  real  form 
and  structure  of  the  stellar  universe,  as  we  will  proceed  to  show. 

THE  GALAXY,  OR  MILKY  WAY. 

By  far  the  most  prominent  feature  in  the  starry  heavens  is  that 
vast  irregular  nebulous  ring  which  in  all  ages  has  attracted  the 
attention  and  excited  the  admiration  of  observers.  This  great 
ring  divides  the  whole  heavens  into  two  hemispheres,  making  an 
angle  of  about  63°  with  the  equinoctial,  so  that  portions  of  it 
pass  not  far  from  the  North  and  South  Poles.  Its  nebulosity  is 
now  believed  to  be  almost  wholly  due  to  the  massing  together  of 
myriads  of  minute  stars,  since  each  increase  in  the  power  of  the 
telescope  shows  more  and  more  of  these  stars,  while  the  best 
photographic  plates  show  them  ever3^here  closely  packed,  but 
still  with  a  luminous  haze  between  them,  indicating  yet  more 
stars  beyond. 

But  beside  these  minute  stars,  which  give  us  the  cloudy  or 
milky  appearance,  it  is  found  that  stars  of  all  degrees  of  brilliancy 
are  more  numerous  in  the  Milky  Way  and  in  its  vicinity  than 
elsewhere.  The  two  poles  of  the  Galaxy  are  the  regions  where 
stars  are  scantiest.  Each  15°  nearer  to  it,  they  increase  in  num- 
bers, at  first  slowly,  then  more  rapidly,  till  we  reach  its  borders. 
The  following  series  of  numbers  give  the  average  number  of 
stars  in  a  square  of  15'  at  each  15°  from  the  pole  of  the  Galaxy,  as 
determined  by  Sir  John  Herschel  4 — 5 — 8 — 13 — 24 — 53. 

Later  observations  have  fully  confirmed  this,  while  it  has  been 
shown  by  the  late  Mr.  Proctor  that  all  stars  down  to  the  tenth 
magnitude,  more  than  324,000  in  number,  when  carefully 
mapped,  mark  out  the  Milky  Way  in  all  its  details  by  their  greater 
density.  Later  still,  the  Italian  astronomer,  Schiaparelli,  by 
using  all  the  materials  now  available,  arrives  at  the  same  result, 
and  Professor  S.  I^ewcomb,  of  Washington,  after  a  close  examina- 
tion of  his  maps,  assures  us  that  the  Mill<rv  Way  can  be  fairly 
traced  out  by  the  region  of  maximum  agglomeration  of  stars. 

These  facts  lead  to  the  conclusion  that  the  Galaxy  is  a  vast 


228  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

annular  agglomeration  of  stars  forming  a  great  circle  round  the 
heavens^  although  in  jolaces  very  irregular,  being  split  in  two 
for  about  one-third  of  its  circumference,  and  being,  besides,  full 
of  irregular  dark  streaks  and  patches,  where  the  most  powerful 
telescopes  show  very  few  stars,  so  that,  as  Sir  John  Herschei 
says,  we  are  irresistibly  led  to  the  conclusion  that,  in  those  regions, 
"we  see  fairly  through  the  starry  stratum";  and  this  is  fur- 
ther shown  by  the  fact  that  in  these  parts  "the  ground  of  the 
heavens  seen  between  the  stars  is  for  the  most  part  perfectly 
dark,  which  would  not  be  the  case  if  multitudes  of  stars,  too  mi- 
nute to  be  individually  discernible,  existed  beyond."  This  great 
ring  is,  therefore,  evidently  not  very  much  extended  in  the  direc- 
tion of  its  own  plane  —  that  is,  the  ring  is  not  fiat  or  greatly 
compressed  (as  is  Saturn^s  ring,  for  example),  or  we  should 
nowhere  see  through  it. 

But  what  is  more  important  is,  that  we  must  be  situated  not  in 
any  part  of  it  as  was  once  supposed,  but  at  or  near  the  very  cen- 
tral point  in  the  plane  of  the  ring,  that  is,  nearly  equally  distant 
from  every  part  of  it.  This  must  be  the  case,  because  from  any 
other  position  the  ring  would  not  appear  to  us  so  symmetrical  as 
it  does.  If  we  were  much  nearer  to  one  side  of  it  than  to  the 
other,  the  nearer  side  would  appear  broader,  the  more  remote  side 
narrower,  and  these  two  directions  would  show  a  decided  differ- 
ence in  the  numbers  of  the  visible  stars.  Sir  John  Herschei, 
indeed,  thought  the  southern  portion  was  nearer  to  us  than  the 
northern,  because  of  its  greater  IrigMness,  which,  he  says,  is  very 
striking,  and  conveys  strongly  the  idea  of  greater  proximity.  But 
this  may  be  deceptive,  because  the  whole  Milky  Way  shows  great 
irregularities  and  variations  in  brightness,  and  it  is  a  remarkable 
fact  that  the  portions  near  the  North  and  South  Poles  are  totli 
equally  narrow,  while  the  parts  90°  from  them  are  1)001  very 
broad,  rather  suggesting  equality  of  distance  in  all  directions. 
Nearness  would  be  indicated  by  a  widening  out  of  stars  of  all 
magnitudes,  not  necessarily  by  any  general  increase  of  brilliancy. 
The  facts,  therefore,  seem  to  show  that  w^e  are  about  equally  dis- 
tant from  all  parts  of  the  Milky  Way. 

Very  important,  however,  is  Sir  John  Herschel's  testimony  to 
the  close  correspondence  of  the  Galaxy  as  a  whole  to  a  great 
circle.  He  tells  us  that,  following  the  line  of  its  greatest  bright- 
ness, it  conforms,  as  nearly  as  may  be,  to  that  of  a  great  circle 


MAN'S  PLACE  IN  THE  UNIVERSE  229 

inclined  about  63°  to  the  equinoctial,  and  cutting  that  circle  in 
E.A.  6h.  47m.,  and  18h.  47ni.,  while  its  poJes  are  in  E.A.  12h. 
47  m.  N.  Decl.,  27%  and  E.A.  Oh.  47m.,  S.  DecL,  27°.  He  there- 
fore determines  it,  hy  the  figures  lie  gives,  to  lie  in  an  exact  great 
circle  as  seen  from  the  earth,  as  nearly  as  so  irregular  an  object 
can  be  defined.  But  neither  he  nor  any  other  astronomer,  so  far 
as  I  am  aware,  makes  any  remark  on  the  extraordinary  nature  of 
this  fact,  which  proves  that  we  are  placed  exactly  in  the  plane  of 
the  medial  line  of  the  ring.  The  fact  of  the  Galaxy  forming  a 
great  circle  as  seen  from  the  earth  being  so  familiar,  no  one  seems 
to  have  thought  it  worth  while  to  ask  why  it  is  so.  If  we  could 
look  at  such  a  fact  from  the  outside,  as  it  were,  we  should  cer- 
tainly impute  it  to  some  causal  connection  between  our  system 
and  the  Galaxy.  But  before  speculating  what  this  relation  may 
mean  we  must  consider  another  point  of  equal  importance  in  our 
relation  to  the  system  of  stars. 

OUR    STAR    CLUSTER. 

It  has  long  been  observed  that  the  brighter  stars  seem  scattered 
over  the  whole  heavens,  with  no  special  abundance  in  or  near  the 
Milky  Way,  and  this  was  thought  to  be  due  to  their  being  much 
nearer  to  us.  It  is  now- known,  however,  that  brightness  is  no 
indication  of  nearness,  so  that  this  fact  has  little  significance. 
But,  as  we  have  seen,  we  do  possess  a  real  test  of  nearness  in 
the  amount  of  the  proper  motion  of  stars,  and  this  leads  us  to  a 
very  definite  and  most  suggestive  conclusion.  For  the  stars  which 
are  nearest  to  us,  judged  by  this  test,  not  only  have  no  apparent 
relation  to  the  Milky  Way,  but  are  spread  over  every  part  of  the 
heavens  with  tolerable  uniformity.  The  most  recent  examination 
of  this  class  of  stars  is  by  Professor  S.  JSTewcomb,  who  states  the 
result  in  the  following  words :  —  "If  we  should  blot  out  from  the 
sky  all  the  stars  having  no  proper  motion  large  enough  to  be 
detected,  we  should  find  remaining  stars  of  all  magnitudes,  but 
they  would  be  scattered  almost  uniformly  over  the  sky,  and  show 
no  tendency  towards  the  Milky  Way.^' 

Professor  Kapteyn,  of  Groningen,  appears  to  have  been  the 
first  to  draw  the  obvious  conclusion  from  these  facts  that  these 
nearer  stars  spread  around  us  in  every  direction,  constitute  a 
globular  mass,  which  he  termed  the  "  solar  cluster,^^  nearly  con- 


230  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

centric  with  the  Milky  Way,  and  that  our  Snn  is  "deeply  im- 
mersed "  in  this  cluster. 

Other  astronomers  have  adopted  this  view,  which  seems  to  be 
almost  indisputable  if  the  facts  are  as  stated.  For,  if  the  cluster 
were  not  globular,  its  component  stars  would  not  appear  to  be  so 
uniformly  spread  over  the  whole  heavens ;  and  if  our  sun  were  not 
situated  at  or  near  its  center,  but  much  nearer  to  one  side  of  it 
than  to  the  other,  then  we  should  inevitably  find  the  stars  of  this 
type  (those  with  measurable  proper  motions)  much  more  numer- 
ous in  one  direction  than  in  a  direction  exactly  opposite.  But, 
although  there  may  be  some  irregularities  in  their  distribution,  it 
has  not  been  pointed  out  that  there  is  any  such  regular  inequality 
as  this,  and  if  there  is  not,  then  we  must  be  situated  very  near 
indeed  to  the  center  of  this  "  solar  cluster.^^ 

The  results  so  far  reached  by  astronomers  as  the  direct  logical 
conclusion  from  the  whole  mass  of  facts  accumulated"  by  means 
of  those  powerful  instruments  of  research  which  have  given  us 
the  New  Astronomy  is  that  our  Sun  is  one  of  the  central  orbs  of 
a  globular  star-cluster,  and  that  this  star-cluster  occupies  a  nearly 
central  position  in  the  exact  plane  of  the  Milky  Way.  But  I  am 
not  aware  that  any  writer  has  taken  the  next  step,  and  combin- 
ing these  two  conclusions  has  stated  definitely  that  our  Sun  is 
thus  shown  to  occupy  a  position  very  near  to,  if  not  actually  at, 
the  center  of  the  whole  visible  universe,  and  therefore,  in  all  prob- 
ability, in  the  center  of  the  whole  material  universe. 

This  conclusion  is,  no  doubt,  a  startling  one,  and  all  kinds  of 
objections  will  be  made  against  its  being  accepted  as  a  proved 
fact.  And  yet  I  am  not  acquainted  with  any  great  inductive 
result  of  modern  scence  that  has  been  arrived  at  so  gradually, 
so  legitimately,  by  means  of  so  vast  a  mass  of  precise  measure- 
ment and  observation,  and  by  such  wholly  unprejudiced  workers. 
It  may  not  be  proved  with  minute  accuracy  as  regards  the  actual 
mathematical  center.  That  is  not  of  the  least  importance.  But 
that  it  is  substantially  correct  in  the  terms  I  have  stated  there 
seems  no  good  reason  to  doubt,  and  I  therefore  hold  it  to  be 
right  and  proper  to  have  it  so  stated  and  provisionally  accepted, 
until  further  accumulations  of  evidence  may  show  to  what  extent 
it  requires  modification. 

This  completes  the  first  part  of  our  inquiry;  but  an  equally 
important  part  remains  to  be  considered  —  our  position  in  the 


MAN'S  PLACE  IN  THE  UNIVERSE  231 

Solar  System  itself  as  regards  adaptability  for  organic  life.  Here, 
too,  I  am  not  aware  that  tiie  whole  facts  have  been  sufficiently  con- 
sidered, yet  they  are  facts  that  indicate  our  position  in  this 
respect  to  be,  in  all  probability,  as  central  and  unique  as  is  that 
of  our  Sun  in  the  stellar  universe. 

THE  EARTH  AS  ADAPTED  FOR  LIFE. 

Among  the  many  writers  who  have  more  or  less  seriously  dis- 
cussed the  question  of  the  adaptability  of  other  planets  for  the 
development  of  organic  life,  and  of  the  higher  forms  of  intel- 
lectual beings,  I  have  not  met  with  any  who  have  considered  the 
problem  in  all  its  bearings.  They  have  usually  been  content  to 
show  that  certain  planets  may  possibly  be  now  in  a  condition  to 
support  life  in  forms  not  very  dissimilar  from  those  upon  our 
earth;  but  they  have  never  adequately  considered  the  precedent 
question:  Could  such  life  have  originated  and  have  been  devel- 
oped upon  these  planets?  This  is  the  real  crux  of  the  problem, 
and  I  believe  that  a  full  consideration  of  the  required  conditions 
will  satisfy  us  that,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  no  other  planet  can 
fulfil  them.    Let  us,  therefore,  consider  what  these  conditions  are. 

The  earlier  writers  on  this  subject  could  give  free  play  to  their 
imaginations  and  overcome  difficulties  of  temperature,  moisture, 
etc.,  by  supposing  that  in  other  worlds  there  might  be  other  ele- 
ments which  had  different  properties  from  any  we  possess,  and 
which  might  render  life  possible  under  conditions  very  unlike 
those  which  are  essential  here.  But  the  revelations  of  spectrum- 
analysis  have  shown  us  the  unity  of  the  constitution  of  matter 
throughout  the  whole  material  universe,  so  that  not  only  are  the 
planets  of  the  solar  system  all  composed  of  the  same  elements, 
but  that  the  farthest  stars  and  remotest  nebulas  alike  consist  of 
the  very  same  elements  with  which  we  are  so  familiar,  while 
the  same  physical  and  chemical  laws  undoubtedly  prevail.  We 
may  be  confident,  therefore,  that  wherever  organized  life  may 
have  developed,  it  must  be  built  up  out  of  the  same  fundamental 
elements  as  here  on  earth. 

The  essential  features  of  the  structure  of  organized  beings  are 
continuous  growth  and  repair  of  tissues,  nutrition  by  the  absorp- 
tion of  dead  or  living  matter  from  without,  and  its  transformation 
into  the  various  unstable  compounds  of  which  their  bodies  are 


232  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

built  up.  For  these  purposes  a  double  system  of  circulation, 
gaseous  and  liquid,  has  to  be  constantly  in  operation,  and  this 
is  carried  on  by  means  of  minute  tubular  or  cellular  vessels  which 
permeate  every  part  of  the  body.  These  wonderfully  complex 
and  exquisitely  adjusted  circulating  systems  are  entirely  depend- 
ent on  the  continuous  maintenance  of  a  very  narrow  range  of 
temperatures  somewhere  between  the  extremes  of  the  boiling  and 
the  freezing  points  of  water,  but  really  within  much  narrower 
limits,  since  if  the  whole  of  the  water  at  any  time  became  solidi- 
fied, all  the  higher  forms  of  life  would  be  destroyed,  while  a 
temperature  very  much- below  the  boiling  point,  if  permanently 
maintained,  would  be  almost  equally  detrimental. 

When  we  consider  that  the  temperature  of  space  is  about 
— 273°  C,  while  that  of  the  outer  surfaces  of  the  sun  is  about 
9,000°  C,  we  realize  what  a  combination  of  favorable  conditions 
must  exist  to  preserve  on  the  surface  of  a  planet  a  degree  of  heat 
which  shall  never  for  any  considerable  time  fall  below  0°  C,  or 
rise  above,  say,  75°  C,  and  that  these  narrow  limits  must  be  con- 
tinuously maintained^,  not  for  hundreds  or  thousands  only,  but 
for  millions,  perhaps  for  hundreds  of  millions  of  years,  if  life  is  to 
be  developed  there.  It  is  the  maintenance  of  this  comparatively 
uniform  surface  temperature  for  such  enormous  periods  —  dur- 
ing, in  fact,  the  whole  time  covered  by  the  geological  record  — 
that  most  writers  have  overlooked  as  among  the  necessary  condi- 
tions for  the  development  of  the  higher  forms  of  life  on  a  planet ; 
and  this  omission  vitiates  all  their  reasoning,  since  they  have 
to  show  not  only  that  the  requisite  conditions  of  temperature  may 
exist  now,  but  that  there  is  even  a  probability  that  they  have 
existed,  or  will  exist,  for  a  sufficiently  extended  period  to  allow 
of  the  development  of  a  complex  system  of  organic  life  comparable 
with  our  own.  Let  us  then  enumerate  the  chief  favorable  con- 
ditions which  in  their  combination  appear  to  have  rendered  this 
development  possible  on  our  earth.     These  are: — 

(1)  A  distance  from  the  sun  such  as  to  keep  up  the  tempera- 
ture of  the  soil  to  the  required  amount,  by  sun-heat  alone,  and  to 
evaporate  sufficient  water  to  produce  clouds,  rain  and  a  system  of 
river  circulation. 

(2)  An  atmosphere  of  sufficient  extent  and  density  to  allow 
of  the  production  and  circulation  of  aqueous  vapor  in  the  form 
of  clouds,  mists  and  dews,  and  to  serve  also  as  an  equalizer  of  sun- 


MAN'S  PLACE  IN  THE  UNIVERSE  233 

heat  during  day  and  night,  winter  and  summer,  and  also  between 
the  tropical  and  temperate  zones.  This  amount  of  atmosphere  is 
held  to  be  largely  dependent  upon  the  mass  of  a  planet,  and  this 
one  feature  alone  probably  renders  Mars  quite  unsuitable,  since 
its  mass  is  less  than  one-eighth  that  of  the  earth. 

(3)  The  very  large  proportion  of  the  surface  covered  by  deep 
oceans  so  that  they  surround  and  interpenetrate  the  land,  and  by 
their  tides  and  currents  keep  up  a  continuous  circulation,  and 
are  thus  the  chief  agents  in  the  essential  equalization  of  tem- 
peratures. This,  again,  is  largely  dependent  on  our  possessing 
so  large  a  satellite,  capable  of  producing  a  regular,  but  not 
excessive,  tidal  action.  The  want  of  such  a  satellite  may  alone 
render  Venus  quite  unsuitable  for  the  development  of  high  forms 
of  life,  even  if  other  conditions  were  more  favorable,  which 
seems  in  the  highest  degree  improbable. 

(4)  The  enormous  average  depth  of  these  oceans,  so  that  the 
bulk  of  water  they  contain  is  about  thirteen  times  that  of  the 
land  which  rises  above  their  level.  This  indicates  that  they 
are  permanent  features  of  the  earth's  surface,  thus  ensuring  the 
maintenance  of  continuous  land-areas  and  of  uniform  tempera- 
tures during  the  whole  period  of  the  development  of  life  upon 
the  earth.* 

It  is  extremely  improbable  that  this  remarkable  condition  ob- 
tains in  any  other  planet. 

(5)  Lastly,  one  of  the  most  peculiar  and  least  generally  con- 
sidered features  of  our  earth,  but  one  which  is  also  essential  to  the 
development  and  maintenance  of  the  rich  organic  life  it  pos- 
sesses, is  the  uninterrupted  supply  of  atmospheric  dust,  which  is 
now  known  to  be  necessary  for  the  production  of  rain  clouds  and 
beneficial  rains  and  mists,  and  without  which  the  whole  course 
of  meteorological  phenomena  would  be  so  changed  as  to  endan- 
ger the  very  existence  of  a  large  portion  of  the  life  upon  the 
earth.  How  and  why  this  is  so  is  fully  explained  in  my  Wonder- 
ful Century.  Now,  the  chief  portion  of  this  fine  dust,  distributed 
through  the  upper  atmosphere,  from  the  equator  to  the  poles, 
with  wonderful  uniformity,  is  derived  from  those  great  terrestrial 
features  which  are  often  looked  upon  as  the  least  essential,  and 

*  The  evidence  which  demonstrates  this  permanence  is  set  forth  in  my 
Island  Life,  Chap.  VI.,  and  enforced  by  additional  arguments  in  my 
Studies  Scientific  and  Social,  Vol.  I.,  Chap.  2. 


234  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

even  as  blots  and  blemishes  on  the  fair  face  of  nature  —  deserts 
and  volcanoes.  Most  persons,  no  doubt,  think  they  could  both  be 
very  well  spared,  and  that  the  earth  would  be  greatly  improved, 
from  a  human  point  of  view,  if  they  were  altogether  abolished. 
Yet  it  is  almost  a  certainty  that  the  consequences  of  doing  so 
would  be  to  render  the  earth  infinitely  less  enjoyable,  and,  per- 
haps, altogether  uninhabitable  by  man.  We  must,  therefore, 
reckon  a  due  proportion  of  deserts  and  active  volcanoes,  with 
sufficiently  constant  winds  to  distribute  the  dust  from  them,  as 
among  the  permanent  essentials  of  a  globe  fitted  for  the  develop- 
ment of  intelligent  life.  This  utility  of  deserts  and  volcanoes  is, 
I  think,  now  stated  for  the  first  time. 

Now,  if  we  consider  that  these  five  distinct  conditions,  or  sets 
of  conditions,  many  of  them  dependent  on  a  delicate  balance 
of  forces  acting  at  the  origin  of  our  planet,  appear  to  be  abso- 
lutely essential  for  the  existence  of  high  types  of  organic  life,  we 
shall  at  once  see  how  peculiar  and  unique  is  our  place  and  con- 
dition within  the  Solar  System,  since  we  know,  with  almost  com- 
plete certainty,  that  they  do  not  all  co-exist  in  any  of  the  other 
planets.  And  when  we  consider  further,  that  even  if  they  do 
happen  to  exist  now,  that  would  be  nothing  to  the  purpose  unless 
we  had  reason  to  believe  that  they  had  also  existed,  as  with  us,  in 
unbroken  continuity,  for  scores,  or,  perhaps,  hundreds  of  millions 
of  years.  All  the  evidence  at  our  command  goes  to  assure  us 
that  our  earth  alone  in  the  Solar  System  has  been  from  its  very 
origin  adapted  to  be  the  theatre  for  the  development  of  organized 
and  intelligent  life.  Our  position  within  that  system  is,  there- 
fore, as  central  and  unique  as  that  of  our  Sun  in  the  whole 
stellar  universe. 

But,  it  may  be  asked,  even  if  it  be  conceded  that  both  by 
position,  by  size,  and  by  its  combination  of  physical  features,  we 
really  do  stand  alone  in  the  Solar  System  in  our  adaptation  for 
the  development  of  intelligent  life,  in  what  way  can  the  position 
of  our  Sun  at  or  near  the  center  of  the  stellar  universe,  as  it 
certainly  appears  to  be,  affect  that  adaptation  ?  Why  should  not 
one  of  the  Suns  on  the  confines  of  the  Milky  Way,  or  in  any  other 
part  of  it,  possess  planets  as  well  adapted  as  we  are  to  develop 
high  forms  of  organic  life  ? 

These  are  questions  which  involve  the  most  difficult  problems 
in  mathematical  physics,  and  only  our  greatest  thinkers,  possess- 


MAN'S  PLACE  IN  THE  UNIVERSE  235 

ing  the  highest  mathematical  and  physical  knowledge,  could  be 
expected  to  give  any  adequate  answer  to  them.  In  the  meantime 
I  will  briefly  indicate  what  seems  to  me  to  be  the  probable  nature 
of  the  reply.  Accepting  the  proof  astronomers  have  given  us, 
that  so  far  from  the  material  universe  of  which  our  Sun  forms  a 
part  extending  infinitely  into  space,  we  can  actually  see  beyond 
its  outer  boundaries,  and  can  even  approximately  give  a  maximum 
limit  to  its  magnitude,  we  are  confronted  with  the  problem,  of 
how  a  limited  universe  of  matter  and  ether,  with  the  motions 
and  forces  which  everywhere  pervade  it,  can  conserve  those  forces 
at  and  near  its  farthest  limits.  Is  it,  in  fact,  necessarily  becom- 
ing dissipated  into  other  space  ?  Do  any  of  its  constituent  suns, 
like  those  comets  which  have  hyperbolic  or  parabolic  orbits,  con- 
tinually fly  out  beyond  its  range,  and  become  lost  to  it  for  ever  ? 
Comparing  the  stars  of  the  Milky  Way  to  the  molecules  of  a  gas, 
must  not  a  certain  proportion  of  these  stars  continually  escape 
from  the  attractive  powers  of  their  neighbors,  as  a  result  of  col- 
lisions, or  in  other  ways,  and  wandering  into  outer  space,  soon 
become  dead  and  cold  and  lost  forever  to  the  universe  ?  Will  not 
the  whole  of  the  outer  margins  of  the  stellar  universe  be  therefore 
unstable?  always  being  liable  to  pass  into  regions  where  they 
would  be  dissipated,  as  we  see  comets  dissipated  before  our  eyes  ? 
If  such  results  are  certain,  it  will  follow  that  the  outer  portions 
of  the  universe,  at  all  events,  and  for  an  unknown  extent  inward, 
will  be  entirely  unfitted  to  ensure  that  continuity  of  uniform  con- 
ditions which  is  the  first  essential  for  the  development  of  life. 

But  this  is  only  a  small  portion  of  the  problem.  A  still  more 
difficult  question  is,  how  will  the  ether  behave  near  the  outer 
borders  of  the  universe?  Can  gravitation  maintain  its  influence 
on  the  confines  of  a  finite  universe  in  the  same  degree  as  near 
its  center?  If,  as  now  generally  believed,  gravitation  is  really 
produced  by  pressure  of  some  kind,  which  must  be  equal  in  all 
directions,  then  it  is  almost  certain  that  at  any  considerable 
distance  beyond  the  central  portion  of  the  universe,  gravitation 
would  vary  in  intensity  in  different  directions.  Whether  this 
variation  could  possibly  be  detected  by  means  of  the  motions  of 
remote  binary  stars,  or  in  any  other  way,  it  must  be  left  for 
mathematicians  and  astronomers  to  determine. 

But  leaving  this  question  of  variation  of  the  force  of  gravity 
as  beyond  our  powers  at  present,  we  may  give  a  little  considera- 


236  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

tion  to  those  wonderful  radiant  forces,  other  than  light  and  heat, 
the  very  existence  of  some  of  which  we  have  only  recently  dis- 
covered. Such  are  electricity,  magnetism,  the  Kontgen  rays,  the 
Hertzian,  the  Goldstein,  the  Becquerel  rays,  and  some  others. 
That  electrical  forces  bear  an  important  part  in  the  development 
of  living  organisms  there  is  little  doubt,  while  other  forms  of 
radiation  here  referred  to,  some  of  which  produce  curious  physio- 
logical effects,  can  hardly  be  supposed  to  have  been  wholly  with- 
out influence  in  the  formation  of  the  marvelous  living  machine, 
the  substance  of  which,  in  its  complexity,  both  of  structure  and 
constituent  elements,  is  a  true  microcosm  —  an  epitome  of  matter 
and  its  forces.  But  if  all  these  radiant  forces,  or  several  of  them, 
have  combined  in  the  development  of  life,  we  may  feel  sure  that 
they  can  only  have  done  so  under  conditions  which  limit  their 
energy  to  that  gentle  and  imperceptible  action  which  has  caused 
them  to  remain  so  long  hidden  even  from  the  most  inquisitive 
seekers  of  the  past  century.  And  it  is  at  least  a  possible,  and  I 
think  not  improbable  supposition,  that  this  imperceptibility  and 
continuity  may  exist  only  in  the  more  central  portions  of  the 
universe,  while  in  its  outer  regions  less  regularity  may  prevail, 
and  while  some  of  these  necessary  radiant  forces  may  be  wanting, 
others  may  be  too  abundant,  or  be  manifested  in  so  irregular 
or  excessive  a  manner  as  to  be  antagonistic  to  the  delicate  and 
nicely-balanced  forces  which  are  essential  to  the  orderly  develop- 
ment of  life. 

Eeturning  now  for  a  moment  to  the  consideration  of  our 
position  in  the  stellar  universe,  it  will  assume  a  somewhat  dif- 
ferent aspect  in  view  of  the  possibilities  or  probabilities  just  set 
forth. 

We  can  hardly  suppose  any  longer  that  three  such  remarkable 
coincidences  of  position  and  consequent  physical  conditions 
should  occur  in  the  case  of  the  one  planet,  on  which  organic  life 
has  been  developed,  without  any  causal  connection  with  that  de- 
velopment. The  three  startling  facts  —  that  we  are  in  the  center 
of  a  cluster  of  suns,  and  that  that  cluster  is  situated  not  only 
precisely  in  the  plane  of  the  Galaxy,  but  also  centrally  in  that 
plane,  can  hardly  now  be  looked  upon  as  chance  coincidences 
without  any  significance  in  relation  to  the  culminating  fact  that 
the  planet  so  situated  has  developed  huinanity. 

Of  course  the  relation  here  pointed  out  may  be  a  true  relation 


MAN'S  PLACE  IN  THE  UNIVERSE  237 

of  cause  and  effect,  and  yet  have  arisen  as  the  result  of  one  in  a 
thousand  million  chances  occurring  during  almost  infinite  time. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  those  thinkers  may  be  right  who,  hold- 
ing that  the  universe  is  a  manifestation  of  Mind,  and  that  the 
orderly  development  of  Living  Souls  supplies  an  adequate  reason 
why  such  an  universe  should  have  been  called  into  existence,  be- 
lieve that  we  ourselves  are  its  sole  and  sufficient  result,  and  that 
nowhere  else  than  near  the  central  position  in  the  universe  which 
we  occupy,  could  that  result  have  been  attained. 


238  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


THE   SPECTROSCOPE. 

By  NEWELL  DUNBAR. 

THOUGH  we  may  never  have  thought  of  it  before,  we  readily 
see  on  a  little  consideration  that  of  the  five  senses  —  smell, 
taste,  hearing,  tonch,  and  sight  —  to  which  we  owe  our 
knowledge  of  the  world  around  us,  we  are  most  indebted  to  sight. 
Gathering  information  most  easily  and  quickly,  it  gives  us  the 
greater  part  of  our  knowledge  of  things  external;  its  reports  too 
are  the  most  reliable,  and  it  often  serves  to  test  the  credibility  of 
the  other  senses.  Vision  it  is  that  presents  to  us  the  beauty  of 
the  landscape,  the  vastness  of  the  sea,  the  sun's  splendor,  charm 
of  painting,  wisdom  or  amusement  from  the  printed  page,  the 
faces  and  forms  of  friends  and  dear  ones.  In  the  misty  past, 
the  strange  cliff-dweller,  suspended 

"  Like  Mahomet's   tomb   'twixt  earth  and  heaven," 

chose  his  home  by  its  guidance,  and  later  the  ancient  Eoman 
selected  the  spot  to  pitch  his  camp. 

Men  went  on  for  centuries  relying  largely  upon  the  unaided 
eye.  If  it  could  do  so  much  what  might  not  be  expected  of  it  if, 
by  any  seeming  miracle,  its  natural  powers  were  enlarged  by  some 
sort  of  magic  spectacles !  Curiously  enough,  just  this  unforeseen 
thing  happened.  Modern  science  —  which  has  showered  upon  us 
so  many  wonders  —  has  made  three  almost  magical  extensions  to 
the  .reach  of  man's  best  sense:  the  microscope  (invented  in  A.  D. 
1590) ;  the  telescope  (1608)  ;  the  spectroscope  (1802).  The  in- 
vention of  these  three  instruments  marks  epochs  in  the  history  of 
the  human  mind.  The  microscope  added  to  our  knowledge  myr- 
iads of  objects  too  Rmall  to  be  perceptible  to  the  naked  eye;  the 
telescope,  a  vast  realm  too  distant  to  be  seen  clearly,  or  at  all. 
Of  the  spectroscope  a  delightful  writer  on  scientific  and  other 
subjects,  Charles  Kent,  sa^^s :  "  The  spectroscope  is  something 
more  than  an  optical  instrument  —  it  is  a  talisman."    And  the 


THE    SPECTROSCOPE  239 

famous  Alfred  Eussell  Wallace,  co-discoverer  with  the  great  Dar- 
win of  the  mighty  principle  of  natural  selection,  writes :  "  Among 
the  numerous  scientific  discoveries  of  our  [the  nineteenth]  cen- 
tury we  must  give  a  very  high,  perhaps  even  the  highest,  place  to 
spectrum  analysis^'  (which  is  the  work  the  spectroscope  does). 
"  Not  only  because  it  has  completely  solved  the  problem  of  the 
true  nature  and  cause  of  the  various  spectra  produced  by  different 
kinds  of  light,  but  because  it  has  given  us  a  perfectly  new  engine 
of  research,  by  which  we  are  enabled  to  penetrate  into  the  re- 
motest depths  of  space,  and  learn  something  of  the  constitution 
and  the  motions  of  the  constituent  bodies  of  the  stellar  universe. 
Through  its  means  we  have  acquired  what  are  really  the  equiva- 
lents of  new  senses,  which  give  us  knowledge  that  before  seemed 
absolutely  and  forever  unattainable  by  man/^ 

Perhaps  we  can  best  get  a  clear  idea  of  what  the  spectroscope 
is  by  considering,  first,  the  steps  that  led  to  its  invention ;  second, 
a  description  of  it ;  and,  third,  some  of  those  of  its  achievements 
that  have  led  scientific  men  —  who  use  language  with  great  care 
and  accuracy  —  to  speak  of  it  in  such  glowing  terms. 

Even  to-day,  if  there  is  one  thing  that  on  its  face  seems  clear, 
it  is  that  pure  white  light  is  just  what  it  appears  to  be  —  namely, 
pure  white  light.  But  as  far  back  as  1675  the  illustrious  English 
philosopher.  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  demonstrated  the  then  startling 
fact  that  it  contains  within  itself  all  colors.  Before  the  assem- 
bled members  of  the  august  Eoyal  Society  he  admitted  through 
a  small  round  hole  into  a  darkened  room  a  single  sunbeam,  in 
whose  course  inside  the  room  he  placed  a  glass  prism.  In  passing 
through  this  prism  the  sunbeam  was  not  only  bent  from  a  straight 
line,  but  —  owing,  as  Newton  said,  to  the  different  refrangibilities 
(or  powers  of  being  turned  from  a  straight  line  on  passing  from 
one  transparent  substance  into  another)  of  light  of  different 
colors,  to  what  we  now  call  its  different  wave-lengths  —  was  split 
up  into  seven  distinct  colors,  which  could  be  seen  succeeding  each 
other  in  a  ribbon  or  band  upon  the  wall:  red,  orange,  yellow, 
green,  blue,  indigo,  violet.  The  order  of  these  prismatic  or  pri- 
mary colors,  as  they  have  been  called,  was  from  the  least  bent 
rays  to  those  which  were  more  and  more  widely  deflected.  Each 
hue  overlapped  and  shaded  off  imperceptibly  into  the  next,  with 
the  result  that  the  band  or  ribbon  composed  of  them  all  was  not 
divided  up  into  distinct  spaces  each  of  a  different  hue,  but  from 


240 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


end  to  end  presented  a  continuous  flow  of  occasionally  gradually 
changing  color.  This  variegated  band  is  called  the  solar  spectrum. 
It  may  often  be  seen  on  the  ceiling,  wall,  furniture,  or  carpet 
when  a  ray  of  sunlight  has  passed  through  one  of  the  cut-glass 
drops  of  an  old-fashioned  chandelier.  A  portion  of  it  is  produced 
when  the  sun  shines  upon  a  dewdrop.;  the  whole,  by  the  many 
raindrops  of  a  shower  in  the  rainbow. 

Not  till  over  a  century  later  than  the  time  of  Newton's  experi- 
ment, namely  in  1802,  did  it  occur  to  anybody  to  see  what  would 
result  in  it  if  for  the  small  round  hole  were  substituted  a  narrow 
slit.  The  celebrated  English  chemist.  Dr.  Wollaston,  admitted 
through  such  a  vertical  slit  in  the  shutter  of  the  room  a  sunbeam, 
which  was  then  duly  separated  into  its  seven  constituent  colors 


Decomposition  of  Light  Through  Prism. 

by  being  passed  through  a  prism;  on  examining  the  resultant 
solar  spectrum,  greatly  to  his  surprise  Wollaston  found  that,  from 
one  end  to  the  other,  it  was  marked  at  irregular  intervals  across 
its  width  by  dark  lines  of  varying  thickness.  Dr.  Wollaston  en- 
joyed great  reputation  in  his  time,  was  secretary  of  the  Eoyal 
Society,  and  acquired  wealth.  To-day  his  chief  claim  to  remem- 
brance is  not  his  process  of  extracting  platinum  from  its  ore  (on 
which  rested  his  reputation  during  his  lifetime,  and  his  riches), 
but  the  fact  of  his  having  discovered  the  existence  of  these  dark 
lines  in  the  solar  spectrum,  though  by  his  contemporaries  the  fact 
was  deemed  of  very  slight  importance. 


THE    SPECTROSCOPE  241 

These  dark  lines  in  the  solar  spectrum  were  afterwards  mi- 
nutely studied  by  others.  It  was  ascertained  that,  when  thus 
formed  from  light  admitted  through  a  slit,  the  solar  spectrum 
always  showed  them,  and  that  they  were  invariably  the  same.  It 
made  no  difference  whether  the  light  was  derived  directly  from 
the  sun,  or  indirectly  by  reflection  from  the  moon,  or  from  one 
of  the  planets.  When,  indeed,  the  sun  being  low  in  the  east  or 
in  the  west  his  beams  had,  in  order  to  reach  us,  to  pierce  hori- 
zontally through  a  great  thickness  of  the  earth's  atmosphere,  the 
solar  spectrum  showed  supplementary  or  additional  lines;  but 
these  were  clearly  due  to  influences  in  the  earth's  air.  When 
the  light  was  taken  at  its  purest,  that  is  from  the  sun  at  meridian, 
the  dark  lines  were  always  exactly  the  same  in  number  and  in 
manner  of  arrangement.  The  German  scientist  Fraunhofer  — 
who,  ignorant  of  Wollaston's  earlier  experiments,  arrived  after- 
wards by  a  method  of  his  own  at  the  same  results  — made  out 
nearly  six  hundred  of  them  (576,  to  be  precise).  In  1814  he 
published  an  accurate  map  on  which  each  line  w^as  duly  lettered 
and  numbered,  and  which  ever  since  has  been  of  the  greatest 
use  —  a  standard  indeed  —  to  chemists  and  astronomers.  Sir 
David  Brewster  counted  later  two  thousand.  On  account  of 
the  thoroughness  of  Fraunhofer's  study  of  the  lines  they  were 
named  after  him,  Fraunhofer's  lines.  So  much  for  the  steps 
leading  to  the  invention  of  the  spectroscope. 

As  for  description,  Dr.  Wollaston's  darkened  room,  prism,  and 
slit  shutter  may  be  regarded  as  an  imperfect  and  cumbrous  spec- 
troscope. So  too  Fraunhofer's  apparatus,  which  was  very  simi- 
lar; though,  unlike  Wollaston,  Fraunhofer  used  a  telescope  for 
the  better  observing  the  dark  lines  (whereby  of  course  they  were 
enlarged  and  made  plainer).  But,  as  the  importance  of  spectra 
and  the  cross  lines  began  to  appear  and  the  magnitude  of  what 
might  be  learned  from  their  study,  the  mathematical  instrument 
makers  evolved,  bit  by  bit  to  meet  demands,  the  wonderful  mod- 
ern spectroscope. 

This,  in  brief,  as  commonly  made,  is  a  compact  instrument,  in 
its  simplest  form  set  upon  a  stand  or  table.  The  light  to  be 
analyzed  is  admitted,  through  an  extremely  narrow  slit  at  one 
end,  into  a  tube  about  fifteen  inches  long,  and  on  issuing  from 
the  other  end  of  this  tube  passes  through  a  prism.  The  slit  and 
the  prism  are  the  essential  parts  of  the  spectroscope.    The  spec- 

i6 


242  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

trum  resulting  from  the  passage  of  the  light  through  the  prism 
is  thrown  upon  the  object-glass  of  a  telescope,  commonly  about 
eighteen  inches  long,  placed  at  an  angle  with  the  tube.  The 
student  views  the  spectrum  through  the  eye-piece  of  this  tele- 
scope. Both  tube  and  telescope  can  be  most  delicately  adjusted 
as  to  position  in  themselves  and  relatively  to  each  other  by  means 
of  screws,  racks  and  pinions,  etc.  The  eye-piece  of  the  telescope 
is  supplied  with  a  little  contrivance  (called  a  micrometer)  for 
determining  with  great  accuracy  the  position  of  any  line  in  the 
spectrum  under  observation  relatively  to  the  principal  lines  of 
Fraunhofer  in  the  solar  spectrum,  the  universal  standard.  (In 
many  instruments  the  means  of  doing  this  is  in  the  form  of  a 
second  —  commonly  shorter  —  tube  generally  placed  in  the  angle 


The  Spectroscope. 

made  by  the  other  tube  and  the  telescope.)  The  prism,  placed  at 
the  apex  of  this  angle,  presents  one  of  its  edges  to  the  object- 
glass  of  the  tube  and  another  to  the  object-glass  of  the  telescope, 
the  edge  before  the  object-glass  of  the  tube  being  directly  parallel 
with  the  slit  at  its  other  end.  In  spectroscopes  designed  for  cer- 
tain particular  purposes  (as  where  high  dispersion  of  the  rays 
of  light  is  desired,  in  photographic  work,  etc.),  instead  of  a 
prism  what  is  called  a  grating  is  often  used.  This  is  a  collection 
of  fine  wires  or  scratches  on  glass  or  metal,  at  equal  distances 
from  and  parallel  with  and  very  close  to  each  other ;  it  serves  sub- 
stantially the  same  purpose  as  a  prism.  Several  prisms  instead  of 
one  are  often  employed;  the  number  has  run  up  as  high  as 
twenty  (the  superb  spectroscope  at  Kew  Observatory,  England, 
has  nine).  The  gain  from  the  use  of  a  succession  of  prisms  is 
that  each  one  spreads  out  more  and  more  widely  the  rays  of 
light,  so  that  the  final*  expansion  is  greater,  the  spectrum  lons^er, 
and  consequently  the  dark  lines  are  further  separated,  and  so 


THE    SPECTROSCOPE  2^3 

can  better  be  studied.  Against  this  ^ain  is  to  be  set  some  loss 
in  intensity  to  the  light  with  each  additional  prism  passed 
through.  When  the  spectroscope  is  in  use  a  dark  cloth  is  thrown 
over  the  prism  and  the  ends  of  the  tube  and  the  telescope,  all 
extraneous  light  being  thus  excluded.* 

There  are  various  special  kinds  of  spectroscope ;  as,  the  Chemi- 
cal, the  Star,  the  Spark,  the  Meteor  (the  particular  purpose  of 
each  of  which  is  obvious),  the  Direct- vision  spectroscope  (for 
use  with  the  eye  and  the  source  of  the  light  to  be  studied  in  a 
straight  line),  the  Eain-band  spectroscope  (a  pocket  direct- 
vision  spectroscope  for  studying  the  rain-band,  which  is  a  dark 
band  in  the  solar  spectrum  caused  by  the  absorption  of  that  part 
of  the  spectrum  by  aqueous  vapor,  and  giving  an  indication  of 
rain),  the  micro-spectroscope  (a  microscope  and  a  spectroscope 
combined,  by  means  of  which  the  spectra  of  the  minutest  particles 
can  be  analyzed),  etc.  All  these  in  a  broad  sense  serve  substan- 
tially the  same  end,  and  in  all  of  them  the  underlying  principle  is 
practically  the  same. 

Now  as  to  results.  Of  what  use  is  this  instrument?  What, 
in  detail,  has  it  done?    After  Fraunhofer  had,  as  we  have  seen, 

*  Sir  Norman  Lockyer,  the  eminent  English  astronomer,  recently  gave 
the  following  recipe  for  constructing  at  the  cost  of  a  few  cents  a  home- 
made spectroscope  : 

"  For  sixpence  any  of  us  may  make  for  ourselves  an  instrument. 
.  .  .  From  an  optician  we  can  get  a  small  prism ;  get  a  piece  of  wood 
from  twenty  to  ten  inches  long  (the  distance  of  distinct  vision),  one  inch 
broad  and  half  an  inch  thick.  On  one  end  glue  a  cork  two  inches  high; 
at  the  other  end  fasten,  by  melting  the  bottom,  a  stump  of  a  wax  candle 
of  such  a  height  that  the  dark  cone  above  the  wick  is  level  with  the  top 
of  the  cork.  Then  glue  the  prism  on  the  cork,  so  that  by  looking  side- 
Avays  through  the  prism  the  colored  image,  or  spectrum,  of  the  flame  of 
the  candle  placed  at  the  other  end  of  the  piece  of  wood  can  be  seen. 

"  We  get  a  band  of  color,  a  spectrum  of  the  candle  flame,  built  up  of 
an  infinite  number  of  images  of  the  flame  produced  by  the  light  rays  of 
every  color.  But,  so  far,  the  spectrum  is  impure  because  the  images 
overlap.  We  can  get  rid  of  this  defect  by  replacing  the  candle  by  a 
needle. 

"  If  we  now  allow  the  needle  to  reflect  the  lisrht  of  the  candle  flame, 
taking  care  that  the  direct  light  from  the  candle  does  not  fall  upon  the 
face  of  ^he  prism,  we  then  get  a  much  purer  band  of  colors  because  now 
we  have  an  innumerable  multitude  of  images  of  the  thin  needles,  instead 
of  the  broad  flame,  close  together.  The  needle  is  the  equivalent  of  the 
slit  of  the  more  complicated  spectroscopes  used  in  laboratories. 

"  We  can  vary  this  experiment  by  gumming  two  pieces  of  tin-foil  with 
two  perfectly  straight  edges  on  a  piece  of  glass  so  that  the  straight  edges 
are  parallel  and  very  near  together.  In  this  way  we  have  a  slit;  this 
should  be  fixed  close  to  the  candle  and  between  it  and  the  prism." 

Such  a  spectroscope.  Sir  Norman  Lockyer  assures  us,  "  will  serve  many 
of  the  purposes  of  demonstrating  some  of  the  marvelously  fertile  fields  of 
knowledge  which  have  recently  been  opened  up  to  us." 


244  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

published  his  map,  as  the  spectroscope  was  gradually  brought 
nearer  and  nearer  to  perfection  and  investigators  grew  more  and 
more  expert  in  its  use,  increased  attention  was  paid  to  spectrum 
analysis.  Among  those  who  especially  distinguished  themselves 
at  it  may  be  named  Dr.  Ritchie,  Sir  John  Herschel,  and  Fox 
Talbot,  in  England.  It  was  found  that  each  fresh  kind  of  object 
submitted  to  analysis  gave  a  spectrum  of  its  own,  distinguished 
by  a  particular  color  or  colors,  and  by  the  number,  arrangement, 
etc.,  of  lines.  Light  can  be  obtained  from  any  substance  what- 
ever if  only  it  can  be  sufficiently  heated.  Acting  on  this  fact 
investigators  submitted  the  various  chemical  elements  to  spectro- 
scopic test,  and  it  was  found  that  they  produced  spectra  marked 
by  bright  instead  of  by  dark  lines.  It  was  found  too  that,  when 
these  spectra  were  compared  with  the  solar  spectrum,  some  of  the 
bright  lines  in  the  former  (as,  for  instance,  the  brilliant  yellow 
line  of  sodium)  corresponded  in  position  with  certain  black  lines 
in  the  latter. 


A  Spectroscope  With  Two  Prisms. 

About  the  year  1860  the  German  professor,  Gustav  Kirchhoff  — 
who  by  this  time  had  pretty  good  instruments  at  his  command  — 
found  out  the  meaning  of  the  dark  lines  of  the  solar  spectrum, 
and  the  significance  of  the  correspondence  between  them  and 
bright  ones  in  the  other  spectra ;  in  so  doing  making  a  magnificent 
discovery,  and  putting  into  the  hands  of  chemists  and  astrono- 
mers one  of  the  most  cunning  tools  in  the  whole  workshop  of 
science.  He  showed,  practically,  in  the  case  of  the  spectra  of 
various  earthly  substances  that  dark  lines  instead  of  the  natural 
bright  ones  could  be  produced  by  causing  the  light  emitted  by 
the  substance  in  question  to  pass  through  the  ignited  vapor  of  the 
same  substance,  when  this  vapor,  while  allowing  the  other  rays 


THE    SPECTROSCOPE  245 

to  pierce  through  it,  absorbed  the  rays  similar  to  those  radiated 
by  itself;  that  hence  the  dark  lines  in  the  solar  spectrum  were 
caused  by  the  absorption  of  light  at  those  points  by  incandescent 
vapors  surrounding  the  sun;  and  that,  in  the  case  of  an  agree- 
ment between  the  lines  of  the  spectrum  of  an  earthly  substance 
and  lines  in  the  solar  spectrum,  the  same  substance  that  pro- 
duced the  bright  lines  in  one  had  produced  the  dark  lines  in  the 
other,  the  darkness  in  the  latter  case  being  accounted  for.  This 
led  to  a  study  of  the  spectra  of  all  the  known  terrestrial  elements. 
On  comparing  them  one  by  one  with  the  solar  spectrum  it  was 
found  that,  in  many  cases,  there  was  an  exact  correspondence 
between  the  bright  lines  of  one  and  certain  black  lines  in  the 
other ;  and  thus  was  proved  the  existence  in  the  sun's  atmosphere 
of  hydrogen,  and  of  the  vapors  of  the  metals  sodium,  iron,  mag- 
nesium, nickel,  copper,  zinc,  calcium,  etc.  We  shall  be  interested 
in  noting  that  for  certain  lines  in  the  solar  spectrum  no  corre- 
sponding earthly  element  was  for  a  long  time  found,  and  that  to 
account  for  these  lines  there  was  supposed  to  exist  in  the  sun 
an  element  peculiar  to  it,  called  helium.  A  few  ^-ears  ago  this 
element  was  discovered  in  a  rare  mineral,  and  its  bright  spectrum 
exactly  tallied  with  the  unappropriated  black  lines  in  the  solar 
spectrum  !*  This  later  actual  verification  of  the  correctness  of 
Kirchhoff's  reasoning  gives  it  resistless  force.  Yet  how  con- 
vincing his  own  proof  was  we  may  see  by  this  extract  from  a  let- 
ter written  by  him  in  1861 :  "In  order  to  test  in  the  most  direct 
manner  possible  the  truth  of  the  frequently  asserted  fact  of  the 
coincidence  of  the  sodium  lines  with  the  lines  D,  I  obtained  a  tol- 
erably bright  solar  spectrum,  and  brought  a  flame  colored  by 
sodium  vapor  in  front  of  the  slit.  I  then  saw_  the  darJc  lines  D 
change  into  hiight  ones''  f  And  again:  "In  order  to  find  out 
the  extent  to  which  the  intensity  of  the  solar  spectrum  could  be 
increased  without  impairing  the  distinctness  of  the  sodium  lines, 
I  allowed  the  full  sunlight  to  shine  through  the  sodium  flame 
upon  the  slit,  and  to  my  astonishment  I  saw  that  the  darlc  lines 
D  appeared  tviih  an  extraordinary  degree  of  clearness"  (the 
sodium  flame  having,  in  fact,  absorbed  the  rays  having  the  same 

*  Indeed  it  may  be  said  that,  if  the  earth  were  raised  to  a  temperature 
as  high  as  that  of  the  sun  and  were  seen  from  a  distance,  its  spectrum 
would  look  practically  the  same  as  the  solar  spectrum  appears  to  us. 


246  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

wave-lengths  as  those  emitted  by  itself,  while  being  perfectly 
transparent  to  the  others)  ! 

About  the  same  time  as  Kirchhoff^s  grand  discovery,  namely  in 
1860,  another  German  professor,  the  celebrated  Bunsen,  with  the 
spectroscope  discovered  two  metals,  cgesium  and  rubidium;  the 
latter  in  particles  so  infinitesimally  small  that  by  any  othel-  means 
they  would  have  been  imperceptible.  Indeed  the  metal  was  found 
dissolved  in  the  mineral  water  of  Dlirckheim,  Germany,  so  thor- 
oughly that  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  ounce  (two  hundred  grains) 
of  it  was  obtained  from  the  evaporation  of  forty  tons  of  the 
water ;  yet  the  spectrum  of  the  water  had  revealed  to  the  relent- 
less spectroscope  an  unwonted  red  line,  and  the  discovery  had 
followed !  Two  other  new  metals,  making  four  in  all,  were  after- 
wards by  the  same  means  added  to  the  number  by  other  investiga- 
tors. 

When  applied  to  a  study  of  the  stars  the  spectroscope  at  once 
gave  equally  striking  results.  It  was  found  that,  while  each  star 
has  a  spectrum  peculiar  to  itself,  the  stellar  spectra  as  a  whole  are 
similar,  indeed  often  very  similar,  to  the  solar  spectrum.  This 
proved  the  stars  to  be,  as  had  previously  been  supposed,  suns,  sur- 
rounded like  the  sun  by  incandescent  vapors.  Much  too  was 
learned  of  their  constitution;  as,  for  instance,  that  Sirius  con- 
tains hydrogen,  sodium,  and  magnesium;  AMebaran  hydrogen, 
iron,  calcium,  magnesium,  etc. ;  and  so  on.  Thus  was  brought 
down  to  us  by  this  wizard  instrument  sure  knowledge  of  worlds 
so  distant  that  some  of  them  our  most  powerful  telescopes  are  able 
to  show  to  us  only  as  mere  pin-points  of  light,  and  when  it  took 
the  rays  from  which  their  secrets  were  wrested,  though  traveling 
with  unimaginable  speed,  years  to  reach  the  confessional  —  in  one 
case,  that  of  the  variable  star  Algol,  nearly  a  half -century  (and 
light  traveling  at  the  same  rate  of  speed  reaches  us  from  the  sun 
in  just  eight  minutes)  !  Further  than  this,  in  the  hands  of  one 
of  its  arch-masters,  Sir  William  Huggins,  the  spectroscope  showed 
(what  otherwise  would  probably  have  been  beyond  our  grasp) 
that  certain  stars  —  as  Arcturus,  and  Venus  at  times  —  are  moving 
directly  toward  the  earth  ;  while  others  —  as  the  dog-star,  Sirius  — 
are  directly  receding  from  it.  This  motion  in  a  line  drawn  from 
us  to  these  stars  was  proved  by  a  most  delicate  series  of  observa- 
tions, centering  in  the  fact  of  a  slight  change  of  position  in  the 
dark  lines  of  the  spectra  of  the  stars  as  compared  with  the  posi- 


THE    SPECTROSCOPE  247 

tion  of  dark  lines  in  the  spectrum  of  the  sun  or  of  any  stationary 
source  of  light,  this  change  being  due  to  the  fact  that  light-waves 
from  an  object  approaching  us  reach  us  with  greater  rapidity  than 
do  light-waves  from  the  same  object  when  receding  from  us,  as 
the  motion  of  the  waves  is  in  one  case  accelerated  and  light-waves 
in  the  other  retarded  by  the  motion  of  the  object  itself.  Sirius, 
for  instance,  though  one  of  the  nearest  of  the  fixed  stars,  is  so  dis- 
tant from  us  that  its  light  takes  twenty  years  in  reaching  the 
earth.  Some  credit  must  surely  be  given  to  the  mystic  lenses  of 
an  instrument  that  has  enabled  us  to  know  for  certain  of  this  to 
the  eye  glorious  but,  it  must  be  confessed,  rather  remote  luminary, 
besides  some  of  the  metals  it  contains  and  something  of  the  com- 
position of  its  atmosphere,  the  fact  that  it  has  been  receding 
straight  from  us  for 'centuries  at  the  rate  of  nearly  thirty  miles  a 
second,  and  increasing  its  distance  from  the  solar  system  every 
year  by  a  thousand  million  miles !  Indeed  —  probably  its  most 
stupendous  feat  — the  spectroscope  has  shown  that  the  whole 
solar  system  is  moving  at  the  rate  of  150,000,000  miles  a  year 
toward  a  point  in  the  constellation  Hercules,  the  center  of  the 
sun^s  orbit  being  calculated  to  be  Alcyone,  the  chief  star  in  the 
Pleiades !  An  article  in  an  English  review  as  far  back  as  1869, 
after  expressing  a  hope  that  did  turn  out  to  be  prophetic  that  the 
prism  might  settle  some  of  the  mooted  questions  in  regard  to  those 
gradual  and  imperceptible  changes  in  the  universe  that  go  on 
through  long  periods  of  time  (secular,  as  they  are  called),  held 
these  words,  which  some  will  think  may  contain  prophecy :  "  It 
may  even  give  the  inhabitants  of  this  earth  some  effective  and 
intelligible  warning  that  their  great  material  system  of  existences 
is  on  the  wane,^'  as  it  "  may  be  destined  ultimately  to  pierce,  or 
to  remove,  that  hitherto  impenetrable  veil  which  seems  to  separate 
what  we  term  organic  and  vital.  It  may  one  day  lead  us  to  speak 
even  of  the  evolutions  of  thought  in  the  terms  of  ordinary 
physics." 

One  of  the  spectroscope^s  most  curious  achievements  has  been 
to  show  that  in  some  cases  double  stars,  as  they  are  termed  (that 
is,  two  stars  close  together,  either  revolving  the  one  round  the 
other  or  without  physical  connection),  move  one  toward,  the 
other  away  from,  us.  It  has  demonstrated  that  some  stars  which 
to  our  most  powerful  telescopes  seem  single  are  really  double, 
since  their  spectra  show  a  shifting  of  spectrum  lines,  which  after 


248  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

a  time  changes  to  the  opposite  direction^  it  being  possible  from 
the  duration  of  each  continuous  motion  to  calculate  the  time 
of  rotation  of  the  component  stars,  though  one  of  them  has  never 
been  seen  by  mortal  eye.  Thus  it  has  been  proved  that  the  vari- 
able star  Algol  has  an  invisible  companion,  which  partially 
eclipses  it  every  sixty-nine  hours,  and  that  Procyon  is  likewise 
supplied  with  a  dark  mate.  It  has  been  shown  too  that  the 
unusual  motions  of  Sirius,  which  have  long  been  known,  are  due, 
as  was  sujDposed,  to  the  presence  of  a  comrade,  just  visible  in  the 
very  best  telescopes. 

It  used  to  be  thought,  largely  on  the  authority  of  Sir  William 
Herschel,  that  the  nebulae  —  those  misty  clouds  or  patches  of 
light  that  may  be  seen  of  a  night  at  different  points  in  the 
heavens, ''  star-dust  '^  as  they  have  been  called  —  are  all  composed 
of  stars,  but  that  they  are  so  distant  from  us  that  even  the  strong- 
est telescope  is  unable  to  disentangle  their  component  parts.  This 
is  still  deemed  true  of  many  nebulae ;  it  is  now,  however,  thought 
that  on  the  average  they  are  not  more  distant  than  stars.  Ex- 
amination of  them  by  the  spectroscope  has  confirmed  the  latter 
view,  and  shown  that  they  are  often  composed  merely  of  glow- 
ing gas,  this  being  especially  true  of  nebulae  in  or  near  the  Milky 
Way.  The  comets  —  those  "prodigious  blazes ^^  and  "long- 
streaming  stars'^ — the  same  Prosperous  wand,  the  spectroscope, 
has  shown  to  us  as  simply  huge  masses  of  hydrogen  and  nitrogen 
gas,  rushing  through  space  at  frightful  speed,  and  in  a  state  of 
glowing  incandescence. 

In  practical  life  the  spectroscope  has  proved  useful  in  various 
ways;  for  instance,  in  the  Bessemer  manufacturng  process  by 
showing  the  precise  moment  for  transforming  iron  into  steel  by 
blowing  air  through  it  when  it  has  become  thoroughly  molten  in 
its  cupola  furnaces.  Many  more  ways  might  be  suggested.  It 
might  be  found  valuable  in  the  detection  of  adulterations,  as  in 
wine,  or  even  in  the  discovery  of  crime ;  by  the  micro-spectroscope, 
for  example,  from  the  unmistakable  dark  bands  in  its  spectrum 
can  be  detected  the  presence  of  the  thousandth  part  of  a  grain 
of  blood  —  enough,  conceivably,  to  hang  a  murderer !  The  pres- 
ence of  poisons  in  bodies  might  be  similarly  ferreted  out.  It  may 
here  be  noted  that  in  England  Dr.  Bence  Jones  by  means  of  the 
spectroscope  discovered  in  a  living  body  the  presence  of  certain 
metallic  atoms  that  had  been  introduced  into  it  only  a  few  min- 


THE    SPECTROSCOPE  249 

Tites  before.  As  additional  evidence  of  the  almost  miraculous 
delicacy  of  the  spectroscope^s  workings  it  may  be  said  that  it 
plainly  detects  the  tell-tale  yellow  line  in  the  spectrum  of  so 
small  a  bit  of  sodium  as  the  195-millionth  part  of  a  grain,  an 
amount  infinitesimal  almost  beyond  conception !  Amazing  as  we 
are  now  likely  to  concede  the  revelations  of  the  spectroscope, 
which  is  practically  a  thing  but  of  yesterday,  to  have  been,  they 
are  undoubtedly  but  just  beginning.  How  many  more  of  them, 
and  what,  the  future  has  in  store  for  us  —  here  on  earth,  there  in 
the  heavens  —  only  the  future  can  tell. 


250  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


LIFE  IN  THE  DEEP  SEA. 

From  the  QUARTERLY  REVIEW,  July,    1902. 

THE  first  recorded  attempt  to  sound  the  depths  of  the  ocean 
was  made  early  in  the  year  1521,  in  the  South  Pacific, 
by  Ferdinand  Magellan.  He  had  traversed  the  danger- 
ous Straits  destined  to  bear  his  name  during  the  previous 
November,  and  emerged  on  the  28th  of  that  month  into  the 
open  ocean.  For  three  months  he  sailed  across  the  Pacific,  and 
in  the  middle  of  March,  1521,  came  to  anchor  off  the  islands 
now  known  as  the  Philippines.  Here  Magellan  was  killed  in  a 
conflict  with  the  natives.  The  records  of  his  wonderful  feat 
were  brought  to  Spain  during  the  following  year  by  one  of  his 
ships,  the  Victoria;  and  amidst  the  profound  sensation  caused 
by  the  news  of  this  voyage,  which  has  been  called  "  the  greatest 
event  in  the  most  remarkable  period  of  the  world's  history,"  it 
is  probable  that  his  modest  attempt  to  sound  the  ocean  failed 
to  attract  the  attention  it  deserved.  Magellan's  sounding-lines 
were  at  most  some  two  hundred  fathoms  in  length,  and  he  failed 
to  touch  bottom ;  from  which  he  "  somewhat  naively  concluded 
that  he  had  reached  the  deepest  part  of  the  ocean." 

It  was  more  than  two  hundred  years  later  that  the  first  serious 
study  of  the  bed  of  the  sea  was  undertaken  by  the  French 
geographer,  Philippe  Buache,  who  first  introduced  the  use  of 
isobathic  curves  in  a  map  which  he  published  in  1737.  His 
view,  that  the  depths  of  the  ocean  are  simply  prolongations  of 
the  conditions  existing  in  the  neighboring  sea-coasts,  though  too 
wide  in  its  generalization,  has  been  shown  to  be  true  as  regards 
the  sea-bottom  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  continental  coasts 
and  islands;  and  undoubtedly  it  helped  to  attract  attention  to 
the  problem  of  what  is  taking  place  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

Actual  experiment,  however,  advanced  but  slowly.  So  early 
as  the  fifteenth  century,  an  ingenious  cardinal,  one  Nicolaus 
Cusanus  (1401-64),  had  devised  an  apparatus  consisting  of  two 


LIFE  IN  THE  DEEP  SEA  251 

bodies,  one  heavier  and  one  lighter  than  water,  which  were  so 
connected  that  when  the  heavier  touched  the  bottom  the  lighter 
was  released.  By  calculating  the  time  which  the  latter  took  in 
ascending,  attempts  were  made  to  arrive  at  the  depths  of  the 
sea.  A  century  later  Puehler  made  similar  experiments;  and 
after  another  interval  of  a  hundred  years,  in  1667,  we  find  the 
Englishman,  Eobert  Hooke,  continuing  on  the  same  lines  vari- 
ous bathymetric  observations ;  but  the  results  thus  obtained  were 
fallacious,  and  the  experiments  added  little  or  nothing  to  our 
knowledge  of  the  nature  of  the  bottom  of  the  ocean.  In  the 
eighteenth  century  Count  Marsigli  attacked  many  of  the  prob- 
lems of  the  deep  sea.  He  collected  and  sifted  information  which 
he  derived  from  the  coral-fishers;  he  investigated  the  deposits 
brought  up  from  below,  and  was  one  of  the  earliest  to  test  the 
temperature  of  the  sea  at  different  depths.  In  1749  Captain 
Ellis  found  that  a  thermometer,  lowered  on  separate  occasions 
to  depths  of  650  fathoms  and  891  fathoms  respectively,  re- 
corded, on  reaching  the  surface,  the  same  temperature,  namely, 
53°.  His  thermometer  was  lowered  in  a  bucket  ingeniously 
devised  so  as  to  open  as  it  descended  and  close  as  it  was  drawn 
up.  The  mechanism  of  this  instrument  was  invented  by  the 
Eev.  Stephen  Hales,  D.D.,  of  Corpus  Christi  College,  Cam- 
bridge, the  friend  of  Pope,  and  perpetual  curate  at  Teddington 
Church.  Dr.  Hales  was  a  man  of  many  inventions,  and, 
amongst  others,  he  is  said  to  have  suggested  the  use  of  the  in- 
verted cup  placed  in  the  center  of  a  fruit-pie  in  which  the  juice 
accumulates  as  the  pie  cools.  His  device  of  the  closed  bucket 
with  two  connected  valves  was  the  forerunner  of  the  numerous 
contrivances  which  have  since  been  used  for  bringing  up  sea- 
water  from  great  depths. 

These  were  amongst  the  first  efforts  made  to  obtain  a  knowl- 
edge of  deep-sea  temperatures.  About  the  same  time  experi- 
ments were  being  made  by  Bouguer  and  others  on  the  -trans- 
parency of  sea-water.  It  was  soon  recognized  that  this  factor 
varies  in  different  seas ;  and  an  early  estimate  of  the  depth  of 
average  sea-water  sufficient  to  cut  off  all  light  placed  it  at  656 
feet.  The  color  of  the  sea  and  its  salinity  were  also  receiving 
attention,  notably  at  the  hands  of  the  distinguished  chemist, 
Robert  Boyle,  and  of  the  Italian,  Marsigli,  mentioned  above. 
To  the  latter,  and  to  Donati,  a  fellow-countryman,  is  due  the 


252  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

honor  of  jQrst  using  the  dredge  for  purposes  of  scientific  inqniry. 
They  employed  the  ordinary  oyster-dredge  of  the  local  fishermen 
to  obtain  animals  from  the  bottom. 

The  invention  of  the  self -registering  thermometer  by  Caven- 
dish, in  1757,  provided  another  instrument  essential  to  the  in- 
vestigation of  the  condition  of  things  at  great  depths;  and  it 
was  used  in  Lord  Mulgrave^s  expedition  to  the  Arctic  sea  in 
1773.  On  this  voyage,  attempts  at  deep-sea  soundings  were 
made,  and  a  depth  of  683  fathoms  was  registered.  During  Sir 
James  Ross^  Antarctic  expedition  (1839-43)  the  temperature 
of  the  water  was  constantly  observed  to  depths  of  2,000  fathoms. 
His  uncle,  Sir  John  Eoss,  had  twenty  years  previously,  on  his 
voyage  to  Baffin^s  Bay,  made  some  classical  soundings.  One, 
two  miles  from  the  coast,  reached  a  depth  of  2,700  feet,  and 
brought  up  a  collection  of  gravel  and  two  living  crustaceans; 
another,  3,900  feet  in  depth,  jdelded  pebbles,  clay,  some  worms, 
Crustacea,  and  corallines.  Two  other  dredgings,  one  at  6,000 
feet,  the  other  at  6,300  feet,  also  brought  up  living  creatures; 
and  thus,  though  the  results  were  not  at  first  accepted,  the  exist- 
ence of  animal  life  at  great  depths  was  demonstrated. 

With  Sir  James  Eoss'  expedition  we  may  be  said  to  have 
reached  modern  times :  his  most  distinguished  companion,  Sir 
Joseph  Hooker,  is  still  living.  It  is  impossible  to  do  more  than 
briefly  refer  to  the  numerous  expeditions  which  have  taken  part 
in  deep-sea  exploration  during  our  own  times.  The  United 
States  of  America  sent  out,  about  the  time  of  Eoss'  Antarctic 
voyage,  an  expedition  under  Captain  Wilkes,  with  Dana  on 
board  as  naturalist.  Professor  Edward  Forbes,  who  "  did  more 
than  any  of  his  contemporaries  to  advance  marine  zoolog}-,'' 
joined  the  surveying  ship  Beacon  in  1840,  and  made  more  than 
one  hundred  dredgings  in  the  ^gean  Sea.  Loven  was  working 
in  the  Scandinavian  waters.  Mr.  H.  Goodsir  sailed  on  the 
Erebus  with  Sir  John  Franklin's  ill-fated  polar  expedition ;  and 
such  notes  of  his  as  were  recovered  bear  evidence  of  the  value 
of  the  work  he  did.  The  Norwegians,  Michael  Sars  and  his 
son,  G.  0.  Sars,  had  by  the  year  1864  increased  their  list  of 
species  living  at  a  depth  of  between  200  and  300  fathoms,  from 
nineteen  to  ninetj^-two.  Much  good  work  was  done  by  the 
United  States  navy  and  by  surveying  ships  under  the  auspices 
of   Bache,    Bailey,   IMaury,    and    de    Pourtales.     The    Austrian 


LIFE  IN  THE  DEEP  SEA  253 

frigate,  Novaria,  with  a  full  scientific  staff,  circumnavigated  the 
world  in  1857-59.  In  1868  the  Admiralty  placed  the  survey- 
ing ship,  Lightning,  at  the  disposal  of  Professor  Wyville  Thom- 
son and  Dr.  W.  B.  Carpenter  for  a  six  weeks'  dredging  trip  in 
the  ^N'orth  Atlantic;  and  in  the  following  year  the  Porcupine, 
by  permission  of  the  Admiralty,  made  three  trips  under  the 
guidance  of  Dr.  W.  B.  Carpenter  and  Mr.  Gwyn  Jeffreys. 

Towards  the  end  of  1873  H.M.S.  Challenger  left  England,  to 
spend  the  following  three  years  and  a  half  in  traversing  all  the 
waters  of  the  globe.  This  was  the  most  completely  equipped 
expedition  which  has  left  any  land  for  the  investigation  of  the 
sea,  and  its  results  were  correspondingly  rich.  They  have  been 
worked  out  by  naturalists  of  all  nations,  and  form  the  most  com- 
plete record  of  the  fauna  and  flora,  and  of  the  physical  and 
chemical  conditions  of  the  deep  which  has  yet  been  published. 
It  is  from  Sir  John  Murray's  summary  of  the  results  of  the  voy- 
age that  many  of  these  facts  are  taken.  Since  the  return  of  the 
Challenger  there  have  been  many  expeditions  from  various 
lands,  but  none  so  complete  in  its  conception  or  its  execution 
as  the  British  expedition  of  1873-75.  The  U.S.S.  Blahe,  under 
the  direction  of  A.  Agassiz,  has  explored  the  Caribbean  Sea; 
and  the  Albatross,  of  the  same  navy,  has  sounded  the  western 
Atlantic.  Numerous  observations  made  by  the  German  ships, 
Gazelle  and  Drache,  and  by  the  "  Plankton  "  expedition ;  by  the 
Norwegian  North  Atlantic  expedition;  the  Italian  ship,  Wash- 
ington; the  French  ships,  Travailleur  and  Talisman;  the  Prince 
of  Monaco's  yachts,  Hirondelle  and  Princesse  Alice,  under  his 
own  direction ;  the  Austrian  "  Pola "  expedition ;  the  Eussian 
investigations  in  the  Black  Sea,  and  lastly,  by  the  ships  of  our 
own  navy,  have,  during  the  last  five-and-twenty  years,  enor- 
mously increased  our  knowledge  of  the  seas  and  of  all  that  in 
them  is.  This  knowledge  is  still  being  added  to.  At  the  present 
time  the  collections  of  the  German  ship,  Valdivia,  are  being 
worked  out,  and  are  impatiently  awaited  by  zoologists  and 
geographers  of  every  country.  The  Discovery  and  the  Gauss 
although  primarily  fitted  for  ice-work,  can  hardly  fail  to  add 
much  to  what  is  known  of  the  sea-bottom ;  and  amongst  men  of 
science  there  is  no  abatement  of  interest  and  curiosity  as  to  that 
terra  incognita. 

Before  we  attempt  to  describe  the  conditions  which  prevail 


254  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

at  great  depths  of  the  ocean,  a  few  words  should  be  said  as  to 
the  part  played  by  cable-laying  in  the  investigation  of  the  sub- 
aqueous crust  of  the  earth.  This  part,  though  undoubtedly  im- 
portant, is  sometimes  exaggerated;  and  we  have  seen  how  large 
an  array  of  facts  has  been  accumulated  by  expeditions  made 
mainly  in  the  interest  of  pure  science.  The  laying  of  the 
Atlantic  cable  was  preceded,  in  1856,  by  a  careful  survey  of  a 
submerged  plateau,  extending  from  the  British  isles  to  New- 
foundland, by  Lieutenant  Berryman  of  the  Arctic.  He  brought 
back  samples  of  the  bottom  from  thirty-four  stations  between 
Valentia  and  St.  John^s.  In  the  following  year  Captain  PuUen, 
of  H.M.S.  Cyclops,  surveyed  a  parallel  line  slightly  to  the  north. 
His  specimens  were  examined  by  Huxley,  and  from  them  he 
derived  the  Batliyhius,  a  primeval  slime  which  was  thought  to 
occur  widely  spread  over  the  sea-bottom.  The  interest  in  this 
"  Urschleim  "  has,  however,  become  merely  historic,  since  John 
Y.  Buchanan,  of  the  Challenger,  showed  that  it  is  only  a  gela- 
tinous form  of  sulphate  of  lime  thrown  down  from  the  sea-water 
by  the  alcohol  used  in  preserving  the  organisms  found  in  the 
deep-sea  deposits. 

The  important  generalizations  of  Dr.  Wallich,  who  was  on 
board  H.M.S.  Bulldog,  which,  in  1860,  again  traversed  the  At- 
lantic to  survey  a  route  for  the  cable,  largely  helped  to  elucidate 
the  problems  of  the  deep.  He  noticed  that  no  alg(B  live  at  a 
depth  greater  than  200  fathoms;  he  collected  animals  from 
great  depths,  and  showed  that  they  utilize  in  many  ways  organ- 
isms which  fall  down  from  the  surface  of  the  water;  he  noted 
that  the  conditions  are  such  that,  whilst  dead  animals  sink  from 
the  surface  to  the  bottom,  they  do  not  rise  from  the  bottom  to 
the  surface;  and  he  brought  evidence  forward  in  support  of  the 
view  that  the  deep-sea  fauna  is  directly  derived  from  shallow- 
water  forms.  In  the  same  year  in  which  Wallich  traversed  the 
Atlantic,  the  telegraph  cable  between  Sardinia  and  Bona,  on  the 
African  coast,  snapped.  Under  the  superintendence  of  Fleeming 
Jenkin,  some  forty  miles  of  the  cable,  part  of  it  from  a  depth 
of  1200  fathoms,  was  recovered.  Numerous  animals,  sponges, 
corals,  polyzoa,  molluscs,  and  worms  were  brought  to  the  surface, 
adhering  to  the  cable.  These  were  examined  and  reported  upon 
by  Professor  Allman,  and  subsequently  by  Professor  A.  Milne 
Edwards ;  and,  as  the  former  reports,  we  "  must  therefore  regard 


LIFE  IN  THE  DEEP  SEA  255 

this  observation  of  Mr.  Fleeming  Jenkin  as  having  afforded  the 
first  absolute  proof  of  the  existence  of  highly  organized  animals 
living  at  a  depth  of  upwards  of  1,000  fathoms/'  The  investiga- 
tion of  the  animals  thus  brought  to  the  surface  revealed  another 
fact  of  great  interest,  namely  that  some  of  the  specimens  were 
identical  with  forms  hitherto  known  only  as  fossils.  It  was  thus 
demonstrated  that  species  hitherto  regarded  as  extinct  are  still 
living  at  great  depths  of  the  ocean. 

During  the  first  half  of  the  last  century  an  exaggerated  idea 
of  the  depth  of  the  sea  prevailed,  due  in  a  large  measure  to  the 
defective  sounding  apparatus  of  the  time.  Thus  Captain  Dur- 
ham, in  1852,  recorded  a  depth  of  7,730  fathoms  in  the  South 
Atlantic,  and  Lieutenant  Parker  mentions  one  of  8,212  fathoms 
—  depths  which  the  Challenger  and  the  Gazelle  corrected  to 
2,412  and  2,905  fathoms  respectively.  The  deepest  parts  of  the 
sea,  as  revealed  by  recent  research,  do  not  lie,  as  many  have 
thought,  in  or  near  the  centers  of  the  great  oceans,  but  in  the 
neighborhood  of,  or  at  no  great  distance  from,  the  mainland, 
or  in  the  vicinity  of  volcanic  islands.*  One  of  the  deepest 
"  pockets  "  yet  found  is  probably  that  sounded  by  the  American 
expedition  on  board  the  Tuscarora  (1873-75)  east  of  Japan, 
when  bottom  was  only  reached  at  a  depth  of  ,4,612  fathoms. 
More  recently,  soundings  of  5,035  fathoms  have  been  recorded 
in  the  Pacific,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Friendly  Islands,  and 
south  of  these  again,  one  of  5,113  fathoms;  but  the  deepest  of 
all  lies  north  of  the  Carolines,  and  attains  a  depth  of  5,287 
fathoms.  It  thus  appears  that  there  are  "  pockets  '^  or  pits  in 
the  sea  whose  depth  below  the  surface  of  the  water  is  about  equal 
to  the  height  of  the  highest  mountains  taken  from  the  sea-level. 
Both  are  insignificant  in  comparison  with  the  mass  of  the  globe; 
and  it  is  sometimes  said  that,  were  the  seas  gathered  up,  and 
the  earth  shrunk  to  the  size  of  an  orange,  the  mountain-ranges 
and  abysmal  depths  would  not  be  more  striking  than  are  the 
small  elevations  and  intervening  depressions  on  the  skin  of  an 
orange. 

But  it  is  not  with  these  exceptional  abysses  that  we  have  to 
do;  they  are  as  rare  and  as  widely  scattered  as  great  mountain- 
ranges  on  land.  It  is  with  the  deep  sea,  as  opposed  to  shoal 
water  and  the  surface  layers,  that  this  article  is  concerned;  but 
the  depth  at  which  the  sea  becomes  "  deep ''  is  to  some  extent  a 


256  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

matter  of  opinion.  Numerous  attempts^  headed  by  that  of  Ed- 
ward Forbes,  have  been  made  to  divide  the  sea  into  zones  or 
strata;  and,  just  as  the  geological  strata  are  characterized  by 
peculiar  species,  so,  in  the  main,  the  various  deep-sea  zones  have 
their  peculiar  fauna.  These  zones,  however,  are  not  universally 
recognized;  and  their  limits,  like  those  of  the  zoogeographical 
regions  on  land,  whilst  serving  for  some  groups  of  animals, 
break  down  altogether  as  regards  others.  There  are,  however, 
two  fairly  definite  regions  in  the  sea;  and  the  limit  between 
them  is  the  very  one  for  our  purpose.  This  limit  separates  the 
surface  waters,  which  are  permeable  by  the  light  of  the  sun,  and 
in  which,  owing  to  this  life-giving  light,  algoe  and  vegetable 
organisms  can  live,  from  the  deeper  waters  which  the  sun's  rays 
cannot  reach,  and  in  which  no  plant  can  live.  The  regions  pass 
imperceptibly  into  one  another;  there  is  no  sudden  transition. 
The  conditions  of  life  gradually  change,  and  the  precise  level  at 
which  vegetable  life  becomes  impossible  varies  with  differing 
conditions.  With  strong  sunlight  and  a  smooth  sea,  the  rays 
penetrate  further  than  if  the  light  be  weak  and  the  waters 
troubled. 

Speaking  generally,  we  may  place  the  dividing-line  between 
the  surface  layer  and  the  deep  sea  at  300  fathoms.  Below  this 
no  light  or  heat  from  the  sun  penetrates;  and  it  is  the  absence 
of  these  factors  that  gives  rise  to  most  of  the  peculiarities  of  the 
deep  sea.  It  is  a  commonplace  which  every  school-boy  now 
knows,  that  all  animal  life  is  ultimately  dependent  on  the  food- 
stuffs stored  up  by  green  plants ;  and  that  the  power  which  such 
plants  possess  of  fixing  the  carbonic  acid  of  the  surrounding 
medium,  and  building  it  up  into  more  complex  food-stuffs,  de- 
pends upon  the  presence  of  their  green  coloring  matter  (chloro- 
phyll), and  is  exercised  only  in  the  presence  of  sunlight.  But, 
as  we  have  pointed  out,  "  the  sun's  perpendicular  rays  "  do  not 
"  illumine  the  depths  of  the  sea  " ;  they  hardly  penetrate  300 
fathoms.  This  absence  of  sunlight  below  a  certain  limit,  and 
the  consequent  failure  of  vegetable  life,  gave  rise  at  one  time  to 
the  belief  that  the  abysses  of  the  ocean  were  uninhabited  and 
uninhabitable;  but,  as  we  have  already  seen,  this  view  has  long 
been  given  up. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  deep  sea  cannot,  any  more  than  other 
creatures,  be  self-supporting.     They  prey  on  one  another,  it  is 


LIFE  IN  THE  DEEP  SEA  257 

true;  but  this  must  have  a  limit,  or  very  soon  there  would  be 
nothing  left  to  prey  upon.  Like  the  inhabitants  of  great  cities, 
the  denizens  of  the  deep  must  have  an  outside  food-supply,  and 
this  they  must  ultimately  derive  from  the  surface  layer. 

The  careful  investigation  of  life  in  the  sea  has  shown  that 
not  only  the  surface  layer,  but  all  the  intermediate  zones  teem 
with  life.  Nowhere  is  there  a  layer  of  water  in  which  animals 
are  not  found.  But,  as  we  have  seen,  the  .algce  upon  which  the 
life  of  marine  animals  ultimately  depends,  live  only  in  the  upper 
waters ;  below  100  fathoms  they  begin  to  be  rare,  and  below  200 
fathoms  they  are  absent.  Thus  it  is  evident  that  those  animals 
which  live  in  the  surface  layers  have,  like  an  agricultural  popu- 
lation, their  food-supply  at  hand,  whilst  those  that  live  in  the 
depths  must,  like  dwellers  in  towns,  obtain  it  from  afar.  Many 
of  the  inhabitants  of  what  may  be  termed  the  middle  regions  are 
active  swimmers,  and  these  undoubtedly  from  time  to  time  visit 
the  more  densely  peopled  upper  strata.  They  also  visit  the 
depths  and  afford  an  indefinite  food-supply  to  the  deep-sea 
dwellers. 

But  probably  by  far  the  larger  part  of  the  food  consumed  by 
abysmal  creatures  consists  of  the  dead  bodies  of  animals  which 
sink  down  like  manna  from  above.  The  surface  layers  of  the 
ocean  teem  with  animal  and  vegetable  life.  Every  yachtsman 
must  at  times  have  noticed  that  the  sea  is  thick  as  a  puree  with 
jelly-fish,  or  with  that  little  transparent,  torpedo-shaped  crea- 
ture, the  Sagitta.  What  he  will  not  have  noticed,  unless  he  be  a 
microscopist,  is  that  at  almost  all  times  the  surface  is  crowded 
with  minute  organisms,  foraminifera,  radiolaria,  diatoms.  These 
exist  in  quite  incalculable  numbers,  and  reproduce  their  kind 
with  astounding  rapidity.  They  are  always  dying,  and  their 
bodies  sink  downwards  like  a  gentle  rain.  In  such  numbers  do 
they  fall,  that  large  areas  of  the  ocean  bed  are  covered  with  a 
thick  deposit  of  their  shells.  In  the  shallower  waters  the  for- 
aminifera, with  their  calcareous  shells,  prevail,  but  over  the 
deeper  abysses  of  the  ocean  they  take  so  long  in  falling  that  the 
calcareous  shells  are  dissolved  in  the  water,  which  contains  a 
considerable  proportion  of  carbonic  acid  gas,  and  their  place  is 
taken  by  the  siliceous  skeletons  of  the  radiolarians  and  diatoms. 
Thus  there  is  a  ceaseless  falling  of  organisms  from  above,  and 
it  must  be  from  these  that  the  dwellers  of  the  deep  ultimately 

17 


258  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

obtain  their  food.    As  Mr.  Kipling,  in  his  "  Seven  Seas/'  says  of 
the  deep-sea  cables, 

"  The  wrecks  dissolve  above  us ;  their  dust  drops  dovi^n  from  afar  — 
Down  to  the  dark,  to  the  utter  dark,  where  the  blind  white  sea-snakes 
are." 

In  trying  to  realize  the  state  of  things  at  the  bottom  of  the 
deep  sea,  it  is  of  importance  to  recognize  that  there  is  a  wonder- 
ful uniformity  of  physical  conditions  Id-has.  Climate  plays  no 
part  in  the  life  of  the  depths;  storms  do  not  ruffle  their  in- 
habitants ;  these  recognize  no  alternation  of  day  or  night ;  seasons 
are  unknown  to  them ;  they  experience  no  change  of  temperature. 
Although  the  abysmal  depths  of  the  polar  regions  might  be 
expected  to  be  far  colder  than  those  of  the  tropics,  the  difference 
only  amounts  to  a  degree  or  so  —  a  difference  which  would  not 
be  perceptible  to  us  without  instruments  of  precision.  The  fol- 
lowing data  show  how  uniform  temperature  is  at  the  bottom  of 
the  sea. 

In  June,  1883,  N'ordenskiold  found  on  the  eastern  side  of 
Greenland  the  following  temperatures  at  the  surface  2.2°  C; 
at  100  metres  5.7°  C;  at  450  m.  5.1°  C.  In  the  middle  of 
December,  1898,  the  German  deep-sea  expedition,  while  in  the 
pack-ice  of  the  Antarctic,  recorded  the  following  temperatures: 
at  the  surface  —1°  C. ;  at  100  m.  —1.1°  C. ;  at  400  m.  1.6°  C. ; 
at  1000-1500  m.  1.6°  C;  at  4700  m.— 0.5°  C.  These  may  be 
compared  with  some  records  made  in  the  Sargasso  Sea  by  the 
Plankton  expedition  in  the  month  of  August,  when  the  surface 
registered  a  temperature  of  24°  C;  195  m.  one  of  18.8°  G.;  390 
m.  one  of  14.9°  C. ;  and  2060  m.  one  of  3.8  C.  It  is  thus  clear 
that  the  temperature  at  the  bottom  of  the  deep  sea  varies  but  a 
few  degrees  from  the  freezing-point;  and,  whether  in  the  tropics 
or  around  the  poles,  this  temperature  does  not  undergo  anything 
like  the  variations  to  which  the  surface  of  the  earth  is  subjected. 

There  are,  however,  some  exceptions  to  this  statement.  The 
Mediterranean,  peculiar  in  many  respects,  is  also  peculiar  as  to 
its  bottom  temperature.  In  August,  1881,  the  temperature,  as 
taken  by  the  Washington,  was  at  the  surface  26°  C. ;  at  100  m. 
14.5°  C.;  at  500  m.  14.1'°  C. ;  and  from  2500  m.  to  3550  m. 
13.3°  C.  These  observations  agree,  within  one  fifth  of  a  degree, 
with  those  recorded  later  by  Chun  in  the  same  waters.     There 


LIFE  IN  THE  DEEP  SEA  259 

are  also  certain  areas  near  the  Sulu  Islands  where,  with  a  sur- 
face temperature  of  28°  C,  the  deep  sea,  from  730  m.  to  4660  m., 
shows  a  constant  temperature  of  10.3°  C. ;  and  again,  on  the 
westerly  side  of  Sumatra,  the  water,  from  900  m.  downwards, 
shows  a  constant  temperature  of  5.9°  C;  whilst,  in  the  not  far 
distant  Indian  Ocean,  it  sinks  at  1300  m.  to  4°  C.  and  at  1700 
m.  to  3°  C.  In  spite  of  these  exceptions,  we  may  roughly  say 
that  all  deep-sea  animals  live  at  an  even  temperature,  which 
differs  by  but  a  few  degrees  from  the  freezing-point.  Indeed, 
the  heating  effect  of  the  sun's  rays  is  said  not  to  penetrate,  as  a 
rule,  further  than  90-100  fathoms,  though  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  Sargasso  Sea  it  undoubtedly  affects  somewhat  deeper  lay- 
ers. In  the  Mediterranean  the  heat  rays  probably  do  not  pene- 
trate more  than  50  fathoms.  Below  these  limits  all  seasonable 
variations  cease.  Summer  and  autumn,  spring  and  winter,  are 
unknown  to  the  dwellers  of  the  deep;  and  the  burning  sun  of 
the  tropical  noonday,  which  heats  the  surface  water  to  such  a 
degree  that  the  change  of  temperature  from  the  lower  waters  to 
the  upper  proves  fatal  to  many  delicate  animals  when  brought 
up  from  the  depths,  has  no  effect  on  the  great  mass  of  water 
below  the  100-fathom  line. 

Again,  in  the  depths  the  waters  are  still.  A  great  calm 
reigns.  The  storms  which  churn  the  upper  waters  into  tumultu- 
ous fury  have  but  a  superficial  effect,  and  are  unfelt  at  the 
depth  of  a  few  fathoms.  Even  the  great  ocean-currents,  such  as 
the  Gulf-stream,  are  but  surface-currents,  and  their  influence  is 
probably  not  perceptible  below  200  fathoms.  There  are  places, 
as  the  wear  and  tear  of  telegraphic  cables  show,  where  deep-sea 
currents  have  much  force;  but  these  are  not  common.  We  also 
know  that  there  must  be  a  very  slow  current  flowing  from  the 
poles  towards  the  equator.  This  replaces  the  heated  surface- 
waters  of  the  tropics,  which  are  partly  evaporated  and  partly 
driven  by  the  trade-winds  towards  the  poles.  Were  there  no 
such  current,  the  waters  round  the  equator,  in  spite  of  the  low 
conductivity  of  salt  water,  would,  in  the  course  of  ages,  be  heated 
through.  But  this  current  is  almost  imperceptible;  on  the 
whole,  no  shocks  or  storms  disturb  the  peace  of  the  oceanic 
abyss. 

An  interesting  result  of  this  is  that  many  animals,  which  in 
shallower  waters  are  subject  to  the  strain  and  stress  of  tidal 


200  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

action  or  of  a  constant  stream,  and  whose  outline  is  modified  by 
these  conditions,  are  represented  in  the  depths  by  perfectly 
S3'Tnmetrical  forms.  For  instance,  the  monaxonid  sponges  from 
the  deep  sea  have  a  symmetry  as  perfect  as  a  lily's,  whilst  their 
allies  from  the  shallower  seas,  subject  as  they  are  to  varying 
tides  and  currents,  are  of  every  variety  of  shape,  and  their  only 
common  feature  is  that  none  of  them  are  symmetrical.  This 
radial  symmetry  is  especially  marked  in  the  case  of  sessile  ani- 
mals, those  whose  "strength  is  to  sit  still,"  attached  by  their 
base  to  some  rock  or  stone,  or  rooted  by  a  stalk  into  the  mud. 
Such  animals  cannot  move  from  place  to  place,  and,  like  an 
oyster,  are  dependent  for  their  food  on  such  minute  organisms 
as  are  swept  towards  them  in  the  currents  set  by  the  action  of 
their  cilia.  A  curious  and  entirely  contrary  effect  is  produced 
by  this  stillness  on  certain  animals  which,  without  being  fixed, 
are,  to  say  the  least,  singularly  inert.  The  sea-cucumbers  or 
holothurians,  which  can  be  seen  lying  still  as  sausages  in  any 
shallow  sub-tropical  waters,  are  nevertheless  rolled  over  from 
time  to  time,  and  present  now  one,  now  another,  surface  to  the 
bottom.  These  have  retained  the  five-rayed  symmetry  which  is 
so  eminently  characteristic  of  the  group  Echinoderma,  to  which 
they  belong.  But  the  holothurians  in  the  deep  sea,  where  noth- 
ing rolls  them  about,  continue  throughout  life  to  present  the 
same  surface  to  the  bottom ;  and  these  have  developed  a  second- 
ary bilateral  symmetry,  so  that,  like  a  worm  or  a  lobster,  they 
have  definite  upper  and  lower  surfaces.  These  bilateral  holo- 
thurians first  became  known  by  the  dredgings  of  the  Challenger , 
and  formed  one  of  the  most  important  additions  to  our  knowl- 
edge of  marine  zoology  for  which  we  are  indebted  to  that  expe- 
dition. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  sea  there  is  no  sound  — 

"  There  is  no  sound,  no  echo  of  sound,  in  the  deserts  of  the  deep, 
Or  the  great  grey   level  plains  of  ooze  where   the   shell-burred  cables 
creep." 

The  world  down  there  is  cold  and  still  and  noiseless.  Never- 
theless many  of  the  animals  of  the  depths  have  organs  to  which 
by  analogy  an  auditory  function  has  been  assigned.  But  it  must 
not  be  forgotten  that  even  in  the  highest  land-vertebrates  the 
ear  has  two  functions.     It  is  at  once  the  organ  of  hearing  and 


LIFE  IN  THE  DEEP  SEA  261 

of  balancing.  Part  of  the  internal  ear  is  occupied  with  orientat- 
ing the  body.  By  means  of  it  we  can  tell  whether  we  are  keep- 
ing upright,  going  up-hill  or  descending,  turning  to  the  right  or 
to  the  left;  and  it  is  probably  this  function  which  is  the  chief 
business  of  the  so-called  ears  of  marine  animals.  Professor 
Huxley  once  said  that,  unless  one  became  a  crayfish,  one  could 
never  be  sure  what  the  mental  processes  of  a  crayfish  were. 
This  is  doubtless  true;  but  experiment  has  shown,  both  in  cray- 
fishes and  cuttlefishes,  that  if  the  auditory  organ  be  interfered 
with  or  injured,  the  animal  loses  its  sense  of  direction  and  stag- 
gers hither  and  thither  like  a  drunken  man.  It  is  obvious  that 
animals  which  move  about  at  the  bottom  require  such  balancing 
organs  quite  as  much  as  those  which  skim  the  surface;  and  it  is 
in  no  wise  remarkable  that  such  organs  should  be  found  in  those 
dwellers  in  the  deep  which  move  from  place  to  place. 

If  we  could  descend  to  the  depths  and  look  about  us,  we  should 
find  the  bottom  of  the  sea  near  the  land  carpeted  with  deposits 
washed  down  from  the  shore  and  carried  out  to  sea  by  rivers, 
and  dotted  over  with  the  remains  of  animals  and  plants  which 
inhabit  shoal  waters.  This  deposit,  derived  from  the  land,  ex- 
tends to  a  greater  or  less  distance  around  our  coast-line.  In 
places  this  distance  is  very  considerable.  The  Congo  is  said  to 
carry  its  characteristic  mud  six  hundred  miles  out  to  sea,  and 
the  Ganges  and  the  Indus  to  carry  theirs  a  thousand  miles ;  but 
sooner  or  later  we  should  pass  beyond  the  region  of  coast  mud 
and  river  deposit,  the  seaward  edge  of  which  is  the  "  mud-line  " 
of  Sir  John  Murray. 

When  we  get  beyond  the  mud-line,  say  a  hundred  miles  from 
the  Irish  or  American  coast,  we  should  find  that  the  character  of 
the  sea-bottom  has  completely  changed.  Here  we  should  be  on 
Rudyard  Kipling's  "great  grey  level  plains  of  ooze."  All 
around  us  would  stretch  a  vast  dreary  level  of  grayish-white 
mud,  due  to  the  tireless  fall  of  the  minute  globigerina  shells 
mentioned  above.  This  rain  of  foraminifera  is  ceaseless,  and 
serves  to  cover  rock  and  stone  alike.  It  is  probably  due  to  this 
chalky  deposit  that  so  many  members  of  the  "  Benthos  "  —  a 
term  used  by  Haeckel  to  denote  those  marine  animals  which  do 
not  swim  about  or  float,  but  which  live  on  the  bottom  of  the 
ocean  either  fixed  or  creeping  about  —  are  stalked.  Many  of 
them,  whose  shoal-water  allies  are  without  a  pedicel,  are  pro- 


262  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

vicled  with  stalks;  and  those  whose  shallow-water  congeners  are 
stalked  are,  in  the  depths,  provided  with  still  longer  stalks. 
Numerous  sponges  —  the  alcyonarian  Umhellula,  the  stalked  as- 
cidians,  and,  above  all,  the  stalked  crinoids  —  exemplify  this 
point. 

Flat  as  the  Sahara,  and  with  the  same  monotony  of  surface, 
these  great  plains  stretch  across  the  Atlantic,  dotted  here  and 
there  with  a  yet  uncovered  stone  or  rock  dropped  by  a  passing 
iceberg;  In  the  deeper  regions  of  the  ocean  —  where,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  occasional  pits  and  depressions  occur,  and  great 
ridges  arise  to  vex  the  souls  of  the  cable-layers  —  the  globigerina 
ooze  is  replaced  by  the  less  soluble  siliceous  shells  of  the  radio- 
larians  and  diatoms.  The  former  are  largely  found  in  pits  in 
the  Pacific,  the  latter  in  the  Southern  Seas.  But  there  is  a  third 
deposit  which  occurs  in  the  deeper  parts  of  the  ocean  —  the  red 
clay.  This  is  often  partly  composed  of  the  empty  siliceous 
shells  just  mentioned;  but  over  considerable  areas  of  the  Pacific 
the  number  of  these  shells  is  very  small,  and  here  it  would  seem 
that  the  red  clay  is  largely  composed  of  the  "  horny  fragments 
of  dead  surface-living  animals,  of  volcanic  and  meteoric  dust, 
and  of  small  pieces  of  water-logged  pumice-stone.^^  On  which- 
ever deposit  we  found  ourselves,  could  we  but  see  the  prospect, 
we  should  be  struck  with  the  monotony  of  a  scene  as  different 
as  can  well  be  imagined  from  the  varigated  beauty  of  a  rock-pool 
or  a  coral  island  lagoon. 

There  is,  however,  an  abundance  of  animal  life.  The  dredge 
reveals  a  surprising  variety  and  wealth  of  form.  Sir  John 
Murray  records  "  at  station  146  in  the  Southern  Ocean,  at  a 
depth  of  1,375  fathoms,  that  200  specimens  captured  belonged 
to  59  genera  and  78  species."  He  further  states  that  this  was 
.  ^'  probably  the  most  successful  haul,  as  regards  number,  variety, 
novelty,  size,  and  beauty  of  the  specimens,"  up  to  the  date  of  the 
dredging;  but  even  this  was  surpassed  by  the  captures  from  the 
depths  at  station  147.  The  Southern  Ocean  is  particularly  well 
populated.  The  same  writer  says :  "  The  deep-sea  fauna  of  the 
Antarctic  has  been  shown  by  the  Challenger  to  be  exceptionally 
rich,  a  much  larger  number  of  species  having  been  obtained  than 
in  any  other  region  visited  by  the  expedition ;  and  the  Valdivia's 
dredgings,  in  1898,  confirm  this."  There  seems  to  be  no  record 
of  such  a  wealth  of  species  in  depths  of  less  than  50  fathoms. 


LIFE  IN  THE  DEEP  SEA  263 

and  we  are  justified  in  the  belief  that  the  great  depths  are  ex- 
tremely rich  in  species. 

The  peculiar  conditions  under  which  the  Benthos  live  has  had 
a  marked  influence  on  their  structure.  Eepresentatives  of 
nearly  all  the  great  divisions  of  the  animal  kingdom  which  occur 
in  the  sea  are  found  in  the  depths.  Protozoa,  sponges,  coelente- 
rata,  round-worms,  annelids,  Crustacea,  polyzoa,  brachiopoda, 
molluscs,  echinoderms,  ascidians,  fishes,  crowd  the  sea-bottom. 
The  Valdivia  has  brought  home  even  deep-sea  ctenophores  and 
sagittas,  forms  hitherto  associated  only  with  life  at  the  surface. 
The  same  expedition  also  secured  adult  examples  of  the  wonder- 
ful free-swimming  holothurian,  Pelagothuria  ludwigi,  which  so 
curiously  mimics  a  jelly-fish.  It  was  taken  in  a  closing-net  at 
400-500  fathoms  near  the  Seychelles.  Most  of  these  animals 
bear  their  origin  stamped  on  their  structure,  so  that  a  zoologist 
can  readily  pick  out  from  a  miscellaneous  collection  of  forms 
those  which  have  a  deep-sea  home.  We  have  already  referred 
to  a  certain  '^  stalkiness,"  which  lifts  the  fixed  animals  above 
the  slowly  deepening  ooze.  Possibly  the  long-knobbed  tentacles 
of  the  deep-sea  jelly-fish.  Pedis,  on  the  tips  of  which  it  is 
thought  the  creature  moves  about,  may  be  connected  with  the 
same  cause.  The  great  calm  of  the  depths  and  its  effect  upon 
the  symmetry  of  the  body  have  also  been  mentioned ;  but  greater 
in  its  effect  on  the  bodies  of  the  dwellers  in  the  ocean  abysses  is 
the  absence  of  sunlight. 

No  external  rays  reach  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  and  what  light 
there  is  must  be  supplied  by  the  phosphorescent  organs  of  the 
animals  themselves,  and  must  be  faint  and  intermittent.  A 
large  percentage  of  animals  taken  from  the  deep,  sea  show  phos- 
phorescence when  brought  on  deck;  and  it  may  be  that  this 
emission  of  light  is  much  greater  at  a  low  temperature,  and 
under  a  pressure  of  one  or  two  tons  on  the  square  inch,  than  it 
is  under  the  ordinary  atmospheric  conditions  of  the  surface. 
The  simplest  form  which  these  phosphorescent  organs  take  is 
that  of  certain  skin-glands  which  secrete  a  luminous  slime. 
Such  a  slime  is  cast  off,  according  to  Filhol,  by  many  of  the 
annelids;  and  a  similar  light-giving  fluid  is  exuded  from  cer- 
tain glands  at  the  base  of  the  antenna  and  elsewhere  in  some 
of  the  deep-sea  shrimps.  But  the  most  highly  developed  of 
the  organs  which  produce  light  are  the  curious  eye-like  Ian-. 


264  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

terns  which  form  one  or  more  rows  along  the  bodies  of  certain 
fishes,  notably  of  members  of  the  Stomiadse,  a  family  allied  to 
the  salmons.  From  head  to  tail  the  miniature  bnlFs-eyes  ex- 
tend, like  so  many  port-holes  lit  up,  with  sometimes  one  or  tv/o 
larger  organs  in  front  of  the  eyes,  like  the  port  and  starboard 
lanterns  of  a  ship,  so  that  when  one  of  these  fishes  swims 
swiftly  across  the  dim  scene  it  must,  to  quote  Kipling  again, 
recall  a  liner  going  past  "  like  a  grand  hotel."  Sometimes  the 
phosphorescent  organ  is  at  the  tip  of  a  barbel  or  tentacle,  and 
it  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  angler-fish  of  the  deep  sea  has 
replaced  its  white  lure,  conspicuous  in  shallow  water,  but  in- 
visible in  the  dark,  by  a  luminous  process,  the  investigation  of 
which  leads  many  a  creature  into  the  enormous  toothed  mouth 
of  the  fish. 

A  peculiar  organ  exists  in  the  body  of  certain  radiolarians 
found  only  in  the  deep  seas  and  known  by  the  name  "  phaeodaria." 
It  has  been  suggested  that  this  structure  gives  forth  light; 
and,  if  this  be  the  case,  the  floor  of  the  ocean  is  strewn  with 
minute  glow-lamps,  which  perhaps  give  forth  as  much  light  as 
the  surface  of  the  sea  on  a  calm  summer's  night.  There  is, 
however  much  indirect  evidence  that,  except  for  these  inter- 
mittent sources,  the  abysses  of  the  ocean  are  sunk  in  an  im- 
penetrable gloom. 

When  physical  conditions  change,  living  organisms  strive 
to  adapt  themselves  to  the  changed  conditions.  Hence,  when 
the  inhabitants  of  the  shallower  waters  made  their  way  into  the 
darker  deeps,  many  of  them,  in  the  course  of  generations,  in- 
creased the  size  of  their  eyes  until  they  were  out  of  all  pro- 
portion to  their  other  sense-organs.  Others  gave  up  the  con- 
test on  these  lines  and  set  about  replacing  their  visual  organs 
by  long  tactile  tentacles  or  feelers,  which  are  extraordinarily 
sensitive  to  external  impressions.  Like  the  blind,  they  endeavor 
to  compensate  for  loss  of  sight  by  increased  tactile  perception; 
and  in  these  forms  the  eyes  are  either  dwindling  or  have  quite 
disappeared.  An  instance  in  point  is  supplied  by  the  Crus- 
tacea, many  of  whom  have  not  only  lost  their  eyes  but  have  also 
lost  the  stalk  which  bore  them ;  but  amongst  the  Crustacea  some 
genera,  such  as  Bathynomus,  have  enormous  eyes  with  as  many 
as  four  thousand  facets.  It  is  noticeable  that  this  creature  has 
its  eyes  directed  downwards  towards  the  ground  and  not  up- 


LIFE  IN  THE  DEEP  SEA  265 

wards,  as  is  the  case  with  its  nearest  allies.  On  the  whole  the 
Crustacea  lose  their  eyes  more  readily,  and  at  a  less  depth,  than 
fishes.  Many  of  the  latter,  e.g.  Ipnops,  are  blind,  and  in  others 
the  eyes  seem  to  be  disappearing.  Thus,  amongst  the  deep-sea 
cod,  Macrurus,  those  which  frequent  the  waters  down  to  about 
1000  fathoms  have  unusually  large  eyes,  whilst  those  which  go 
down  to  the  deeper  abysses  have  very  small  ones.  Many  of  the 
animals  which  have  retained  their  eyes  carry  them  at  the  end 
of  processes.  Chun,  in  his  brilliant  account  of  the  voyage  of 
the  Valdivia,  has  figured  a  series  of  fishes  whose  eyes  stand  out 
from  the  head  like  a  pair  of  binoculars ;  and  similar  "  telescope  ^' 
eyes,  as  he  calls  them,  occur  on  some  of  the  eight-armed  cuttle- 
fish. The  larva  of  one  of  the  fishes  has  eyes  at  the  end  of 
two  stalks  each  of  which  measures  quite  one  fourth  of  the 
total  length  of  the  body. 

The  color  of  the  deep-sea  creatures  also  indicates  the  dark- 
ness of  their  habitat.  Like  cave-dwelling  animals,  or  the  lila<? 
forced  in  Parisian  cellars,  many  of  them  are  blanched  and  pale ; 
but  this  is  by  no  means  always  the  case.  There  is,  in  fact,  no 
characteristic  hue  for  the  deep-sea  fauna.  Many  of  the  fishes 
are  black,  and  many  show  the  most  lovely  metallic  sheen.  Bur- 
nished silver  and  black  give  a  somewhat  funereal,  but  very  taste- 
ful appearance  to  many -a  deep-sea  fish.  Others  are  ornamented 
with  patches  of  shining  copper,  which,  with  their  blue  eyes,  form 
an  agreeable  variety  in  their  otherwise  somber  appearance. 
Many  of  the  fishes,  however,  present  a  gayer  clothing.  Some 
are  violet,  others  pale  rose  or  bright  red.  Others  have  a  white 
almost  translucent  skin  through  which  the  blood  can  be  seen  and 
its  course  traced  even  in  its  finer  threads.  Purples  and  greens 
abound  amongst  the  holothurians ;  other  echinoderms  are  white, 
yellow,  pink,  or  red.  Red  is  perhaps  the  predominant  color  of 
the  Crustacea,  though  it  has  been  suggested  that  this  color  is 
produced  during  the  long  passage  to  the  surface,  and  that  some 
of  the  bright  reds  which  we  see  at  the  surface  are  unknown  in 
the  depths.  Violet  and  orange,  green  and  red,  are  the  colors  of 
the  jelly-fishes  and  the  corals. 

It  thus  appears  that  there  is  a  great  variety  and  a  great 
brilliancy  amongst  many  of  the  bottom  fauna.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  blue,  all  colors  are  well  represented;  but  the  consid- 
eration of  one  or  two  facts  seems  to  show  that  color  plays  little 


266  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

part  in  their  lives.  Apart  from  the  fact  that  to  our  eyes, 
at  any  rate,  these  gorgeous  hues  would  be  invisible  in  the  depths, 
it  is  difficult  to  imagine  that  each  of  these  gayly-colored  crea- 
tures can  live  amongst  surroundings  of  its  own  hue.  Again,  it 
is  characteristic  that  the  color  is  uniform.  There  is  a  marked 
absence  of  those  stripes,  bands, .  spots,  or  shading  which  play 
so  large  a  part  in  the  protective  coloration  of  animals  exposed 
to  light.  Although  there  is  no  protective  coloration  amongst  the 
animals  of  the  deep  sea,  the  luminous  organs,  which  make,  for 
instance,  some  of  the  cuttle-fishes  as  beautiful  and  as  conspicu- 
ous as  a  firework,  may,  in  some  cases,  act  as  warning  signals. 
Having  once  established  a  reputation  for  nastiness,  the  more 
conspicuous  an  animal  can  make  itself  the  less  likely  is  it  to  be 
interfered  with.  One  peculiarity  connected  with  pigment,  as 
yet  inexplicable,  is  the  fact  that,  in  deep-sea  animals,  many  of 
the  cavities  of  the  body  are  lined  with  a  dark  or,  more  usually, 
a  black  epithelium.  The  mouth,  pharynx,  and  respiratory  chan- 
nels, and  even  the  visceral  cavity,  of  Batliysaurus  and  Ipnops, 
and  indeed  of  all  really  deep-sea  fishes,  are  black.  It  can  be  of 
no  use  to  any  animal  to  be  black  inside;  and  the  only  ex- 
planation hitherto  given  is  that  the  deposit  of  pigment  is  the 
expression  6f  some  modification  in  the  excretory  processes  of  the 
abysmal  fishes. 

It  was  mentioned  above  that  the  absence  of  eyes  is  to  some 
extent  compensated  by  the  great  extension  of  feelers  and  an- 
tennae. Many  of  the  jelly-fishes  have  long  free  tentacles  radiat- 
ing in  all  directions;  the  rays  of  the  ophiuroids  are  prolonged; 
the  arms  of  the  cuttle-fish  are  capable  of  enormous  extension. 
The  antenna  of  the  Crustacea  stretch  out  through  the  water 
and,  in  Aristoeopsis,  cover  a  radius  of  about  five  times  the 
body-length.  In  Nematocarcinus  the  walking-legs  are  elongated 
to  almost  the  same  extent;  and  this  crustacean  steps  over  the 
sea-bottom  with  all  the  delicacy  of  Agag.  The  curious  arachnid- 
like pycnogonids  have  similarly  elongated  legs,  and  move  about, 
like  the  "  harvestmen  "  or  the  "  daddy-long-legs,'^  with  each  foot 
stretched  far  from  the  body,  acting  as  a  kind  of  outpost.  The 
fishes,  too,  show  extraordinary  outgrowths  of  this  kind.  The 
snout  may  be  elongated  till  the  jaws  have  the  proportions  of  a 
pair  of  scissor-blades,  each  armed  with  rows  of  terrible  teeth ;  or 
long  barbels,   growing   out   from   around   the  mouth,   sway  to 


LIFE  IN  THE  DEEP  SEA  267 

and  fro  in  the  surrounding  water.  In  other  cases  the  fins  are 
drawn  out  into  long  streamers.  All  these  eccentricities  give  the 
deep-sea  fishes  a  bizarre  appearance;  their  purpose  is  plainly 
to  act  as  sensory  outposts,  warning  their  possessor  of  the  pres- 
ence of  enemies  or  of  the  vicinity  of  food. 

All  deep-sea  animals  are  of  necessity  carnivorous,  and  prob- 
ably many  of  them  suffer  from  an  abiding  hunger.  Many  of  the 
fishes  have  enormous  jaws,  the  angle  of  the  mouth  being  sit- 
uated at  least  one  third  of  the  body-length  from  the  anterior 
end.  The  gape  is  prodigious,  and  as  the  edge  of  the  mouth  is 
armed  with  recurved  teeth,  food  once  entering  has  little  chance 
of  escape.  So  large  is  the  mouth  that  these  creatures  can  swal- 
low other  fish  bulkier  than  themselves;  and  certain  eels  have 
been  brought  to  the  surface  which  have  performed  this  feat,  the 
prey  hanging  from  beneath  them  in  a  sac  formed  of  the  dis- 
tended stomach  and  body-wall.  It  has  been  said  of  the  desert 
fauna  that  "  perhaps  there  never  was  a  life  so  nurtured  in  vio- 
lence, so  tutored  in  attack  and  defense  as  this.  The  warfare  is 
continuous  from  the  birth  to  the  death."  The  same  words  ap- 
ply equally  to  the  depths  of  the  ocean.  There,  perhaps,  more 
than  anywhere  else,  is  true  the  Frenchman's  description  of  life 
as  the  conjugation  of  the  verb  "  I  eat,"  with  its  terrible  cor- 
relative "  I  am  eaten." 

Connected  with  the  alimentary  tract,  though  in  some  fishes 
shut  oS  from  it,  is  the  air-bladder,  an  organ  which  contains 
air  secreted  from  the  blood,  and  which,  amongst  other  functions, 
serves  to  keep  the  fish  the  right  side  up.  The  air  can  be  re- 
absorbed, and  is  no  doubt,  to  some  extent,  controlled  by  muscular 
effort;  but  there  are  times  when  this  air-bladder  is  a  source 
of  danger  to  deep-sea  fishes.  When  they  leave  the  depths  for 
shallower  water,  where  the  pressure  is  diminished,  the  air- 
bladder  begins  to  expand;  and,  should  this  expansion  pass  be- 
yond the  control  of  the  animal,  the  air-bladder  will  act  as  a 
balloon,  and  the  fish  will  continue  to  rise  with  a  rate  of  ascen- 
sion which  increases  as  the  pressure  lessens.  Eventually  the 
fish  reaches  the  surface  in  a  state  of  terrible  distortion,  with 
half  its  interior  hanging  out  of  its  mouth.  Many  such  victims 
of  levitation  have  been  picked  up  at  sea,  and  from  them  we 
learnt  something  about  deep-sea  fishes  before  the  self-closing 
dredsre  came  into  use. 


268  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

One  peculiarity  of  the  abysmal  fauna,  which,  to  some  extent, 
is  a  protection  against  the  cavernous  jaws  mentioned  above, 
is  a  certain  "  spininess "  which  has  developed  even  amongst 
genera  that  are  elsewhere  smooth.  Such  specific  names  as  spi- 
nosus,  spinifer^  quadrispinosum,  are  very  common  in  lists  of 
deep-sea  animals,  and  testify  to  the  wide  prevalence  of  this 
form  of  defense.  A  similar  spiny  character  is,  however,  found 
in  many  polar  species,  even  in  those  of  comparatively  shallow 
water;  and  it  may  be  that  this  feature  is  a  product  of  low  tem- 
perature and  not  of  low  level.  The  same  applies  to  the  large  size 
which  certain  animals  attain  in  the  depths.  For  instance,  in  the 
Arctic  and  Antarctic  Seas  the  isopodous  Crustacea,  which  upon 
our  coasts  scarcely  surpass  an  inch  in  length,  grow  to  nine  or 
ten  inches,  with  bodies  as  big  as  moderate-sized  lobsters.  The 
gigantic  hydroid  polyps,  e.g.  Monocaulus  imperator  of  the  Pa- 
cific and  Indian  Oceans,  illustrate  the  same  tendency;  and  so  do 
the.  enormous  single  spicules,  several  feet  long  and  as  thick  as 
one's  little  finger,  of  the  sponge  Monorliapliis.  Amongst  other 
floating  molluscs  at  great  depths,  chiefly  pteropods,  the  Val- 
divia  captured  a  gigantic  Carinuria  over  two  feet  in  length. 
Of  even  greater  zoological  interest  were  giant  specimens  of  the 
Appendicularia,  which  were  taken  at  between  1100  and  1200 
fathoms.  This  creature,  named  by  Chun,  Bathocliordceus  cha- 
ron,  reaches  a  length  of  about  five  inches,  and  has  in  its  tail  a 
notochord  as  big  as  a  lamprey's.  All  other  genera  of  this  group 
are  minute,  almost  microscopic. 

There  are  two  other  peculiarities  common  amongst  the  deep- 
sea  fauna  which  are  difficult  to  explain.  One  is  a  curious 
inability  to  form  a  skeleton  of  calcareous  matter.  The  bones 
of  many  abysmal  fishes  are  deficient  in  lime,  and  are  fibrous  or 
cartilaginous  in  composition.  -Their  scales,  too,  are  thin  and 
membranous,  their  skin  soft  and  velvety.  The  shells  of  deep- 
sea  molluscs  are  as  thin  and  translucent  "  as  tissue-paper  " ;  and 
the  same  is  true  of  some  brachiopods.  The  test  of  the  echino- 
derms  is  often  soft,  and  the  armor  of  the  Crustacea  is  merely 
chitinous,  unhardened  by  deposits  of  lime.  Calcareous  sponges 
are  altogether  unknown  in  the  depths.  This  inability  to  form 
a  hard  skeleton  —  curiously  enough  this  does  not  apply  to  cor- 
als—  is  not  due  to  any  want  of  calcareous  salts  in  the  bottom 
waters.     It  is  known  that  calcium  sulphate,  from  which  ani- 


LIFE  IN  THE  DEEP  SEA  269 

mals  secrete  their  calcium  carbonate,  exists  in  abundance;  but 
those  animals  which  dwell  on  the  calcareous  globigerina  ooze 
are  as  soft  and  yielding  as  those  which  have  their  home  on 
the  siliceous  radiolarian  deposits.  Animals  which  form  a  skele- 
ton of  silex  do  not  suffer  from  the  same  inability;  in  fact  the 
deep-sea  radiolarians  often  have  remarkably  stout  skeletons, 
whilst  the  wonderful  siliceous  skeletons  of  the  hexactinellid 
sponges  are  amongst  the  most  beautiful 'objects  brought  up  from 
the  depths. 

The  second  peculiarity,  for  which  there  seems  no  adequate 
reason,  is  the  reduction  and  diminution  in  size  of  the  respira- 
tory organs.  lAmongst  the  Crustacea,  the  ascidians,  and  the 
fishes  this  is  especially  marked.  The  gill  laminae  are  reduced  in 
number  and  in  size;  and  the  evidence  all  points  to  the  view 
that  this  simplification  is  not  primitive  but  acquired,  being 
brought  about  in  some  way  by  the  peculiar  conditions  of  life  at 
great  depths. 

When  the  first  attempts  were  made  to  explore  the  bed  of  the 
ocean,  it  was  hoped  that  the  sea  would  give  up  many  an  old- 
world  form ;  that  animals,  known  to  us  only  as  fossils,  might  be 
found  lurking  in  the  abysmal  recesses  of  the  deep;  and  that 
many  a  missing  link  would  be  brought  to  light.  This  has 
hardly  proved  to  be  the  case.  In  certain  groups  animals  hith- 
erto known  only  as  extinct,  such  as  the  stalked  crinoids  and 
certain  Crustacea,  e.g.  the  Eryonidse,  have  been  shown  to  be 
still  extant.  The  remarkable  Ceplialo  discus  and  Rhah  do  pleura, 
with  their  remote  vertebrate  affinities,  have  been  dragged  from 
their  dark  retreats.  Haeckel  regards  certain  of  the  deep-sea 
medusae  as  archaic,  and  perhaps  the  same  is  true  of  some  of  the 
ascidians  and  holothurians ;  but,  on  the  whole,  the  deep-sea 
fauna  cannot  be  regarded  as  older  than  the  other  faunas  of  the 
seas.  The  hopes  that  were  cherished  of  finding  living  ichthyo- 
sauri or  plesiosauri,  or  the  Devonian  ganoid  fishes,  or  at  least 
a  trilobite,  or  some  of  those  curious  fossil  echinoderms,  the  cys- 
toids  and  blastoids,  must  be  given  up.  Certain  of  the  larger 
groups  peculiar  to  the  deep  sea  have  probably  been  there  since 
remote  times;  but  many  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  deep  belong 
to  the  same  families,  and  even  to  the  same  genera,  as  their 
shallow-water  allies,  and  have  probably  descended  in  more  re- 
cent times.     There,  in  the  deep  dark  stillness  of  the  ocean  bed, 


270  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

unruffled  by  secular  change,  they  have  developed  and  are  develop- 
ing new  modifications  and  new  forms  which  are  as  characteristic 
of  the  deep  sea  as  an  alpine  fauna  is  of  the  mountain  heights. 


UTILIZING  THE  SUN'S  ENERGY  271 


UTILIZING  THE  SUN'S   ENERGY.* 

By  ROBERT  H.  THURSTON. 

MEN  of  science,  familiar  with  the  resources  of  our  globe 
in  the  domain  of  power  production  and  utilization,  and 
especially  all  who  have  considered  the  origin,  extent, 
and  rate  of  extinction  of  the  quantities  of  energy  available  for 
the  purposes  of  civilized  humanity,  have,  for  many  years,  con- 
cerned themselves  seriously  with  the  question,  "  When  and  how 
shall  we  reach  and  pass  the  critical  period  at  which  the  stores 
of  now  available  latent  energy  of  fossil  fuel  shall  have  become 
exhausted  ?  " 

While  this  problem  is  not  immediately  pressing,  it  cannot 
be  long,  time  being  gauged  by  the  periods  of  the  historian, — 
it  is  still  more  limited  in  the  view  of  the  geologist, —  before  our 
stock  of  coal  will  be  so  far  depleted  as  to  make  serious  trouble 
in  our  whole  social  system.  Professor  Leslie,  when  State  geolo- 
gist of  Pennsylvania,  and  the  late  Mr.  Eckley  B.  Cox  estimated 
the  probable  life  of  the  coal  supplies  of  that  State,  at  the  pres- 
ent rate  of  consumption  and  acceleration,  to  be  something  like 
a  century,  and  the  close  of  the  twentieth  century  will  be  very 
likely  to  see  an  end  of  such  manufactures  in  that  State  as  de- 
pend upon  cheap  fuel  and  proximity  to  the  coal  deposits.  In 
Great  Britain  the  case  is  probably  vastly  more  serious  than 
in  the  United  States,  for  there  the  coal  beds  are  far  more  re- 
stricted in  area,  and  in  many  localities  are  already  extensively 
depleted,  with  prices  rising  as  a  consequence.  The  same  is  to 
be  said,  in  perhaps  somewhat  less  degree,  of  the  fuels  of  the 
Continent  of  Europe,  and  Prance,  and  particularly  Germany, 
may  ere  long  feel  the  effect  of  a  stringency  in  the  fuel  market. 

Enormous  deposits  of  coal  remain  untouched  in  other  sections 
of  the  globe,  and  China  can  probably  supply  the  world  for  many 

*  Published  by  permission  of  Cassier's  Magazine. 


272  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

years ;  but  a  time  must  come,  and  that  within  a  few  generations 
at  most,  when  some  other  energy  than  that  of  combustion  of  fuel 
must  be  relied  upon  to  do  a  fair  share  of  the  work  of  the 
civilized  world,  and  this  will  probably  by  that  time  mean  the 
whole  of  the  world. 

Water  power,  which  is  the  next  most  important  source  of 
energy  in  manufactures,  will  do  much  for  us,  and  that  will 
last  as  long  as  humanity  survives  on  this  globe ;  but  it  is  doubt- 
ful whether  it  can  be  considered  as  a  possible  complete  substi- 
tute for  steam  power.  Yet  the  total  available  water  power  of  the 
world  will  greatly  ameliorate  the  difficulties  likely  to  arise 
from  extinction  of  fuel  supplies.  The  mean  annual  rainfall  of 
the  world  is  36  inches  a  year,  and  this  means  about  50,000,000 
cubic  feet  per  square  mile  per  annum  falling  on  the  land  of 
both  hemispheres.  Taking  the  mean  available  height  of  fall  as 
10  feet,  and  assuming  it  possible  to  store  the  water  effectively 
in  ample  reservoirs,  this  would  mean  500,000,000  X  60  =  30,- 
000,000,000  foot-pounds  of  available  energy,  and,  if  expended 
in  three  thousand  working  hours,  it  would  give  a  total  of 
10,000,000  horse-power  per  square  mile  for  such  countries 
as  might  be  able  to  utilize  such  a  fall.  This,  however,  is  but  a 
small  fraction  of  the  inhabited  area  of  the  globe.  As  a  fair 
estimate,  the  data  for  the  Mississippi  Eiver,  in  the  United 
States,  may  be  taken.  This  stream  drains  about  1,250,000 
square  miles,  with  a  rainfall  of  30,000  inches,  an  average, 
for  each  foot  of  fall,  of  11,000,000,000,000  foot-pounds  per  an- 
num. The  fall  is  6  inches  per  mile,  average,  and  the  energy 
capable  of  use  for  that  area  is  about  a  quarter  of  a  million  horse- 
power per  square  mile. 

These  figures  are  enormous,  and  give  the  impression  that  we 
need  not  feel  uneasy  about  our  power  supply,  even  though  we 
entirely  extinguish  our  fuel  deposits.  They  are,  however,  of 
little  value;  for  they  give  no  idea  of  the  practically  available 
energy  of  rainfall,  since  it  is  not  possible  to  make  use  of  more 
than  a  minute  fraction  of  this  total,  and  it  is  not  at  all  probable 
that  we  ever  can.  In  the  whole  length  of  the  Mississippi  Eiver 
there  are  but  three  available  water  powers,  one  with  78  feet 
fall  at  Minneapolis,  one  with  24  feet  at  Des  Moines,  and  one 
with  22  feet  at  Eock  Island.  Taking  the  average  flow  as  a 
half  million  cubic  feet  per  second,  utilized,  the  water  powers  at 


UTILIZING  THE  SUN'S  ENERGY  273 

these  points  would  be  a  total  of  about  7,000,000  horse-power, 
derived  from  an  area  of  a  million  and  a  quarter  square  miles, 
and  directly  from  but  a  fraction  of  that  area,  situated  above 
the  lowest  fall. 

The  deduction  must  evidently  be  that  water  power  alone 
cannot  be  depended  upon  to  provide  the  energy  that  will  be  need- 
ed by  future  generations  should  fuel  be  unavailable,  although  it 
is  equally  obvious  that  streams  are  likely  to  provide  immense 
quantities  of  power,  and  that  manufactures,  in  those  coming 
days,  will  group  themselves  about  the  mill  sites  or  within 
distances  from  them  which  can  be  spanned  by  the  electric  high- 
tension  wire.  Of  this  process  of  displacement  of  manufactures, 
Niagara  and  Buffalo  are  already  giving  impressive  illustrations. 
As  time  goes  on  the  part  to  be  taken  in  power  production  by 
waterfalls  will  become  increasingly  important.  It  is  already 
vastly  greater  and  more  important  economically  than  is  gen- 
erally supposed.  There  are  known  water  powers  in  the  United 
States,  able  to  furnish,  if  fuHy  utilized,  something  like  200,- 
000,000  horse-power;  Niagara,  at  the  falls  alone,  can  supply 
between  four  and  five  millions  and  a  considerable  additional 
quantity  from  the  rapids,  above  and  below  the  falls,  and  nu- 
merous other  water  powers  distributed  over  the  hilly  and  moun- 
tainous portions  of  the  country  will,  in  time,  no  doubt,  become 
centers  gf  power  production  and  distribution.  The  one  threat- 
ening aspect  of  the  hydraulic  power  problem  is  the  extreme  prob- 
ability that  the  continued  destruction  of  forests  and  vegetation 
will  make  the  streams  more  and  more  unreliable  for  continuous 
supply. 

Wind  power  is  another  source  of  available  eneigy,  like  water- 
power,  deriving  its  origin  from  the  energy  of  "the  sun's  rays, 
which  may,  as  time  goes  on,  provide  a  continually  larger  amount 
of  utilizable  energy  for  the  use  of  mankind;  but  it  is  subject, 
even  in  greater  degree  than  water  power,  to  the  objection 
that  it  is  variable  and  unreliable  for  steady  work.  The  winds 
are  continually  rising  and  falling.  "  As  variable  as  the  winds  " 
well  indicates  the  uncertainty  of  atmospheric  currents  as  a 
source  of  power  for  mdustrial  purposes.  Rising  to  a  gale  and 
falling  to  a  calm,  alternateh^,  the  portion  of  the  time  during 
which  this  power  is  actually  available  is  small,  and  still  worse, 
its  available  periods  are  as  likely  to  come  at  unsuitable  hours 

i8 


274  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

and  seasons  as  when  wanted.  There  is  ample  wind  power  for 
all  purposes,  undoubtedly,  could  it  be  regulated^  stored,  and 
economically  availed  of;  but,  while  no  one  can  say  what  may 
or  may  not  be  accomplished  by  the  coming  inventor,  mechanic, 
and  engineer,  it  does  not  seem  likely  that  this  particular  prob- 
lem will  be  successfully  solved,  even  under  the  stimulus  of 
vanishing  fuel  supplies. 

Tidal  power  is  still  another  possible  source  of  industrial 
energy,  and  one  which  also  has  its  own  and  peculiar  difficulties 
of  utilization.  It  is  a  regular  and  well-measured  and  well- 
known  quantity;  its  hours  of  rise  and  fall,  and  the  heights  of 
rise  and  fall,  are  well-established;  but  when  it  is  sought  to 
design  a  system  of  utilization  that  shall  be  cheap,  practicable, 
reliable,  and  compact,  one  that  may  compete  with  other  power 
systems,  it  is  found  to  be  a  very  difficult,  and,  for  the  time,  at 
least,  impracticable,  system  of  power  production. 

At  the  moment,  engineers  and  men  of  science  are  studying  the 
art  of  reducing  to  harness  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun,  and  the 
solar  engine  is  exciting  special  interest.  It  is  no  novelty,  and 
many  inventors  have,  for  years  past,  worked  upon  this  attrac- 
tive problem ;  but  probably  at  no  time  in  the  past  has  this  mat- 
ter assumed  importance  to  so  many  thoughtful  and  intelligent 
men  or  excited  so  much  general  interest.  John  Ericsson,  the 
great  inventor  and  mechanic,  when  writing,  in  1876,  -the  great 
quarto  volume  which  he  intended  should  be  the  memorial  of  his 
life's  work,  devoted  a  very  large  proportion  of  its  space  to  the 
account  of  his  solar  engines  and  of  the  scientific  investigations 
made  in  the  course  of  his  work  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining 
the  amount  of  power  thus  derivable  from  the  direct  rays  of  the 
sun.  His  apparatus  was  simple, —  merely  a  conical  mirror  or 
reflector,  receiving  the  heat  of  the  sun  on  as  large  an  area  as 
was  desired  and  was  found  practicable, .  and  directing  it  to  a 
focus  where  was  placed  a  steam  boiler  or  an  air  cylinder  within 
which  the  fluid,  heated  to  a  high  temperature,  became  available 
for  use  in  a  steam  or  an  air-engine.  He  reported  the  results 
of  his  experiments  thus* :  — 

"It  has  already  been  stated  that  the  result  of  repeated  ex- 
periments with  the  concentration  apparatus  shows  that  it  ab- 

*  Contributions  to  the  Centennial  Exhibition,  by  John  Ericsson,  1876. 
D.  Van  Nostrand.  New  York. 


UTILIZING  THE  SUN'S  ENERGY  275 

stracts  on  an  average,  during  nine  hours  a  day,  for  all  latitudes 
between  the  equator  and  45  deg.,  fully  3.5  units  of  heat  per 
minute  for  each  square  foot  of  area  presented  perpendicularly 
to  the  sun's  rays.  Theoretically,  this  indicates  the  development 
of  an  energy  equal  to  8.2  horse-power  for  an  area  of  100  square 
feet.  On  grounds  before  explained,  our  calculations  of  the  ca- 
pabilities of  sun  power  to  actuate  machinery  will,  however,  be 
based  on  one  horse-power  developed  for  100  square  feet  ex- 
posed to  solar  radiation.  The  isolated  districts  of  the  earth's 
surface  suffering  from  an  excess  of  solar  heat  being  very  numer- 
ous, our  space  only  admits  of  a  glance  at  the  sunburnt  conti- 
nents. 

"  There  is  a  rainless  region  extending  from  the  northwest 
coast  of  Africa  to  Mongolia,  9000  miles  in  length  and  nearly 
1000  miles  wide.  Besides  the  North  African  deserts,  this  re- 
gion includes  the  southern  coast  of  the  Mediterranean,  east  of 
the  Gulf  of  Cabes,  Upper  Egypt,  the  eastern  and  part  of  the 
western  coast  of  the  Eed  Sea,  part  of  S3Tia,  the  eastern  part 
of  the  countries  watered  by  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris,  Eastern 
Arabia,  the  greater  part  of  Persia,  the  extreme  western  part  of 
China,  Thibet,  and,  lastly,  Mongolia.  In  the  western  hemi- 
sphere, Lower  California,  the  tableland  of  Mexico  and  Guate- 
mala, and  the  west  coast  of  South  America,  for  a  distance  of 
more  than  2000  miles,  suffer  from  continuous  intense  radiant 
heat. 

"  Computations  of  the  solar  energy  wasted  on  the  vast  areas 
thus  specified  would  present  an  inconceivably  great  amount  of 
dynamic  force.  Let  us,  therefore,  merely  estimate  the  mechan- 
ical power  that  would  result  from  utilizing  the  solar  heat  on  a 
strip  of  land  a  single  mile  in  width,  along  the  rainless  coast  of 
America;  the  southern  coast  of  the  Mediterranean,  before  al- 
luded to;  both  sides  of  the  alluvial  plain  of  the  Nile  in  Upper 
Eg}^pt ;  both  sides  of  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris  for  a  distance  of 
400  miles  above  the  Persian  Gulf ;  and,  finally,  a  strip,  one  mile 
wide,  along  the  rainless  portions  of  the  shores  of  the  Eed  Sea, 
before  pointed  out.  The  aggregate  length  of  these  strips  of 
land,  selected  on  account  of  being  accessible  by  water  commu- 
nication, far  exceeds  8000  miles.  Adopting  the  stated  length 
and  a  width  of  one  mile  as  a  basis  of  computation,  it  will  be 
seen  that  this  very  narrow  belt  covers  223,000  millions  of  square 


276  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

feet.  Dividing  the  latter  amount  b}^  the  area  of  100  square  feet 
necessary  to  produce  one  horse-power,  we  learn  that  22,300,000 
solar  engines,  each  of  100  horse-power,  could  be  kept  in  constant 
operation,  nine  hours  a  day,  by  utilizing  only  that  heat  which 
is  now  wasted  on  the  assumed  small  fraction  of  land  extending 
along  some  of  the  water-fronts  of  the  sunburnt  regions  of  the 
earth. 

"  Due  consideration  cannot  fail  to  convince  us  that  the  rapid 
exhaustion  of  the  European  coal  fields  will  soon  cause  great 
changes  with  reference  to  international  relations  in  favor  of 
those  countries  which  are  in  possession  of  continuous  sun  power. 
Upper  Egypt,  for  instance,  will,  in  the  course  of  a  few  cen- 
turies, derive  signal  advantage  and  attain  a  high  political 
position  on  account  of  her  perpetual  sunshine  and  the  conse- 
quent command  of  unlimited  motive  force.  The  time  will 
come  when  Europe  must  stop  her  mills  for  want  of  coal.  Upper 
Egypt,  then,  with  her  never-ceasing  sun  power,  will  invite  the 
European  manufacturer  to  remove  his  machinery  and  erect  his 
mills  on  the  firm  ground  along  the  sides  of  the  alluvial  plain 
of  the  Nile,  where  an  amount  of  motive  power  may  be  obtained 
many  times  greater  than  that  now  employed  by  all  the  manufac- 
tories of  Europe.'^ 

The  probable  value  of  the  quantity  of  energy  transmitted  to 
the  earth  from  the  sun,  according  to  the  conclusion,  after  ex- 
tended investigation,  of  the  late  Professor  DeYolson  Wood,  the 
greatest  of  American  thermodynamists  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, is  not  far  from  that  obtained  by  Langley, — 133  foot- 
pounds per  square  foot  of  receiving  area  per  second,  about 
133/550  =  0.24  horse-power,  or  the  equivalent  of  4  square  feet 
per  horse-power.  As  actually  utilized,  Ericsson  reported  his 
solar  engine  to  supply  a  horse-power  from  100  square  feet 
of  receiving  area,  on  a  bright,  clear  day,  and  other  experimen- 
talists, with  apparently  less  efficient  apparatus,  report  a  horse- 
power from  about  150  square  feet  in  sunshine. 

This  figure  is  confirmed  by  recent  experiments  at  Pasadena, 
Cal.,  where  it  is  said  that  the  efficiency  reached  by  Ericsson  has 
in  some  cases  been  attained.  The  California  apparatus  includes 
a  truncated  conical  mirror,  33  feet  6  inches  in  diameter  at  the 
top  and  15  feet  at  the  bottom,  which  concentrates  the  rays  of  the 
sun  received  upon  its  1788  facets  at  a  focus  where  a  boiler  is 


UTILIZING  THE  SUN'S  ENERGY  277 

placed,  and  where  steam  is  made,  to  operate  a  steam-engine  of 
small  power.  The  whole  mass  of  glass  and  iron  composing  the 
mirror  is  moved  by  a  suitably  arranged  clock,  and  is  automati- 
cally held  with  its  axis  directed  toward  the  sun.  The  boiler  is 
carried  on  the  same  frame  and  moves  with  the  mirror.  It  is 
13  feet  6  inches  in  length,  and  contains  about  10  cubic  feet  of 
water  and  8  cubic  feet  of  steam  space.  The  steam  pressure  is 
carried  at  150  pounds  per  square  inch.  It  is  rated  at  ten  horse- 
power. This  power  is  utilized  in  pumping  water,  but  the  re- 
ported figures  are  inconsistent  with  its  rating.  To  set  the  ma- 
chine in  operation  it  is  only  necessary  to  turn  the  apparatus  by 
hand  until  its  axis  points  at  the  sun's  disk  and  to  set  the  clock- 
work in  operation.  To  stop  it,  requires  simply  the  turning  of 
the  mirror  away  from  the  sun  and  the  stopping  of  the  machinery 
which  adjusts  it. 

The  uncertainty  which  the  engineer  feels  regarding  this 
type  of  motor  is  due  largely  to  the  difl&culties  arising  from  the 
fact  that  the  sun  is  not  always  available,  even  by  day,  and  that  it 
is  entirely  out  of  reach  for  power  purposes  for  one-half  the 
twenty-four  hours,  and  he  has  as  yet  no  idea  of  practical  meth- 
ods of  storage,  either  of  the  heat  or  the  power,  for  use  during 
cloudy  periods,  hours,  days,  and  weeks  even,  when  the  engine 
cannot  be  kept  in  steady  operation.  It  is,  of  course,  possible  that 
much  improvement  may  be  effected  in  the  electric  storage  bat- 
tery, and  it  is  even  true  that  great  improvements  in  that 
precious  device  are  apparently  already  in  sight;  but  even  the 
ideal  and  perfect  battery,  could  it  be  realized,  would  probably 
prove  so  costly  and  so  enormous,  as  a  part  of  this  system  of  sun- 
power  utilization,  as  to  make  its  use  practically  out  of  the  ques- 
tion in  temperate  regions  where  the  sky  is  overcast  so  often  that 
not  over  one-half  the  direct  heat  of  the  sun  is  each  day,  on 
the  average,  available,  or  in  the  tropics  where  the  rainy  season 
makes  it  unavailable  for  months  together.  Where,  as  may 
occasionally  be  practicable,  storage  may  be  effected  by  raising 
water  into  extensive  and  elevated  reservoirs  provided  by  Xature, 
this  difficulty  may  prove  less  serious;  but  such  exceptional  ad- 
vantages of  location  cannot  be  relied  upon  for  any  important 
aid  in  securing  general  utilization  of  the  solar  motor. 

For  necessarily  continuous  use  of  power,  it  is  thus  evident, 
this  system  gives  little  promise,  and  a  cotton  mill,  for  example, 


27S  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

that  must  go  into  operation  only  when  the  sun  comes  out  from 
behind  a  cloud  and  go  out  of  action  the  instant  it  disappears 
again,  can  hardly  be  expected  to  pay  dividends.  Water  power 
must  be  its  reliance  when  coal  cannot  be  employed,  rather 
than  either  sun  power  or  wind  power,  and  its  work  must  be 
done  where  a  sufficient  amount  of  fall  and  How  can  be  had  to 
meet  its  maximum  requirements,  even  at  the  period  of  minimum 
flow. 

The  availability  of  sunlight  and  heat  for  the  purposes  of  the 
engineer  differs  greatly  in  different  places,  and  with  every  change 
of  latitude,  as  well  as  from  season  to  season.  This  variability 
is  an  enormous  handicap  where  it  is  sought  to  employ  this 
energy.  The  remark  is  attributed  to  Professor  Langley  that  all 
the  coal  deposits  of  Pennsylvania,  if  burned  in  a  single  second, 
would  not  liberate  a  thousandth  part  as  much  heat  as  does  the 
surface  of  the  sun  in  that  unit  of  time.  Yet  it  is  evident  that 
our  coal  deposits,  so  long  as  they  last,  are  worth  more  to  us 
than  all  the  available  heat  of  the  sun. 

In  conclusion,  we  may  thus  make  the  following  deductions :  — 

The  rapid  and  rapidly  increasing  destruction  of  our  stores  of 
mineral  fuel  must,  sooner  or  later,  bring  us  to  a  point  at  which 
it  will  be  no  longer  possible  to  derive  the  power  required,  in 
the  arts,  from  that  source. 

That  period  is  likely  to  be  ushered  in  before  many  generations, 
and  is,  in  fact,  in  some  portions  of  the  world  already  presenting 
its  preliminary  symptoms, —  difficulty  in  mining  and  increased 
price  of  the  fuel  in  the  market  as  well  as  the  expressed  anxiety 
of  statesmen  guarding  the  interests  of  the  great  manufacturing 
districts  of  Europe. 

The  ultimate  outcome  must  be  the  gradual  extinction  of  our 
fuel  supplies,  and  if  no  substitute  can  be  devised  by  the  in- 
genuity of  man,  the  compulsory  retreat  of  the  civilized  races 
into  the  tropics,  and,  even  there,  the  interruption  of  the  manu- 
facturing industries  on  the  scale  necessary  to  the  maintenance 
of  civilized  life  as  we  know  it  to-day. 

While  it  may  be  true,  as  has  recently  been  estimated,  that  the 
belt  extending  thirty  degrees  on  either  side  of  the  equator  may 
be  capable  of  sustaining  a  population  of  ten  thousand  millions, 
over  ten  times  the  number  now  inhabiting  that  portion  of  the 
globe,  such  a  population  will  require  correspondingly  increased 


UTILIZING  THE  SUN'S  ENERGY  279 

power  supplies,  if  it  is  to  be  a  civilized  population  as  we  to-day 
define  the  word. 

The  available  sources  of  power  remaining  are  wind  and  water 
power,  and  the  utilization  of  the  energy  of  the  direct  rays  of 
the  sun.  The  last,  though  apparently  most  universally  avail- 
able, has  hitherto  been  unused,  while  the  indirect  systems  of 
employment  of  the  sun^s  energy  have  been  very  extensively  em- 
ploj'ed,  the  deduction  being  that  the  former  process  presents 
elements  of  peculiar  difficulty. 

Water  power  is,  to  date,  the  most  available,  and  the  common 
substitute  for  the  heat-engine.  When  the  existing  waterfalls  are 
generally  utilized,  they  will  go  far  toward  meeting  the  needs  of 
the  race  in  power  production,  and  the  coincident  use  of  the 
electric  current  for  the  distribution  of  eneigy  from  its  source 
is  now  making  this  element  of  the  problem  far  more  promising 
of  solution  than  previously.  Yet  it  is  doubtful  whether  water 
power  will  suffice  for  all  the  requirements  of  later  generations, 
even  though  the  usual  result  of  stimulated  brain  work,  check- 
ing of  the  growth  of  population,  should  hold  down  the  num- 
bers of  the  human  race  to  something  like  those  of  the  present 
time. 

Wind  power,  although  even  more  generally  distributed  than 
water  power,  is  subject. to  its  own  peculiar  disadvantages  for 
our  purposes,  and,  while  likely  to  come  more  and  more  into 
use  for  purposes  like  that  of  raising  water  to  higher  levels,  and 
where  steadiness  and  continuity  of  action  are  not  important, 
will  probably  be  found  in  great  part  unavailable  for  large  pow- 
ers or  for  the  great  majority  of  uses  which  commonly  demand 
steadiness  of  power  and  action. 

Solar  motors  make  available  an  immense  quantity  of  active 
energy  by  direct  utilization.  They  are  evidently  practicable  in 
the  sense  that  there  is  no  inherent  mechanical  difficulty  in  their 
construction  and  operation.  They  are  subject,  however,  to  the 
same  defects  of  lack  of  steadiness  of  source  of  energy,  of  need 
for  provision  for  extensive  and  prolonged  storage,  if  to  be 
generally  employed,  and  to  the  serious  objection  of  large  cost 
per  unit  of  power  delivered.  Whether,  this  cost  will  be  so  great 
as  to  balance  the  gain  coming  of  free  delivery  to  the  machine  of 
the  energy  to  be  transformed  can  be  known  only  when  we  are 


280  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

driven  to  the  serious  task  of  providing  substitutes  for  the  heat 
engines. 

Ericsson  made  a  working  steam-engine  deriving  its  energy 
from  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun,  and  proved  that  either  steam  or 
air  could  be  employed  in  such  an  engine  as  the  working  fluid. 
He  also  showed  what  is  the  amount  of  power  practically  deriv- 
able from  the  sun's  rays  through  this  method  of  utilization  of 
the  heat  of  the  sun. 

Later  testimony,  so  far  as  it  goes,  confirms  his  statements,  and 
the  mechanical  possibility  is  beyond  question  that,  in  future  cen- 
turies, when  our  fuels  are  gone,  we  may  largely  utilize  the  sun's 
energy  in  this  manner.  But  it  may  yet  be  found  that  this 
threatened  exhaustion  of  our  fuel  supplies  is  not  the  only,  ox 
perhaps  even  the  first,  limit  likely  to  be  set  to  the  progress 
of  the  world  of  humanity  on  our  globe.  The  exhaustion  of  our 
iron  ores,  like  our  platinum  deposits,  the  mingling  with  the  air 
of  the  products  of  combustion  of  our  fuels  while  they  still  last, 
the  pollution  of  our  water  supplies,  and  many  other  possible 
obstacles  to  progress  and  growth,  will  have  their  effects,  individ- 
ual and  combined,  and  our  most  serious  problems  are  quite  likely 
to  be  found  at  an  earlier  date  than  that  of  the  loss  of  our  fuels ; 
the  last-named  danger  is,  in  fact,  already  upon  us.  This  gen- 
eration need  not  attempt  to  cross  the  first  of  the  bridges  on  the 
list,  although  a  very  seductive  problem  is  presented  to  the  engi- 
neer.    This  problem  may  be  enunciated  thus:  — 

To  find  a  system  of  gathering  and  storing  the  energy  of  the 
direct  rays  of  the  sun,  for  utilization  in  power  production,  by  a 
special  form  of  heat-motor ;  to  find,  next,  a  method  of  transform- 
ing the  energy  thus  collected  into  mechanical  power;  and  to 
discover  a  method  of  storing,  for  later  use,  excess  power  ob- 
tained during  periods  of  sunshine,  tiding  over  the  sunless  pe- 
riods. 

The  problem  will  be  solved  only  when  the  system  thus  per- 
fected is  so  designed  and  constructed  as  to  be  able  to  provide 
power  for  industrial  purposes  so  cheaply  that  a  business  profit 
can  be  made  through  its  use. 


WONDER-WORKING    INVENTIONS  281 


WONDER-WORKING   INVENTIONS. 

By  ALEXANDER  HARVEY. 

GEBEN,  the  great  historian  of  the  English  people,  com- 
plained eloquently,  years  ago,  of  the  exclusive  attention 
paid  by  human  annalists  to  the  business  of  the  court 
and  the  camp.  To  him  it  seemed  clear  that  the  story  of  a  nation 
must  be  the  story  of  its  people  as  well  as  a  record  of  its  immortal 
statesmen  and  of  the  decisive  battles  it  has  fought.  In  Greenes 
pages,  therefore,  we  learn  how,  from  century  to  century,  the  peo- 
ple of  England  fed  themselves,  how  they  lighted  and  heated 
their  homes,  what  they  wore  and  their  modes  of  travel  through 
the  land.  Kow,  it  would  be  exaggeration  to  say  that  Green  was 
a  pioneer  in  a  domain  never  previously  explored  —  for  Macaulay, 
not  to  mention  others,  had  invaded  it  before  him  —  but  he  w^as 
the  first  great  historian  to  understand  how  much  of  human  his- 
tory has  been  made  by  the  inventor.  All  the  great  social  revolu- 
tions of  the  last  century,  thinks  Froude,  were  achieved  by 
inventors,  and  it  is  difficult  to  read  such  a  history  as  that  of 
Greenes  without  coming  to  the  same  conclusion. 

Opinions  will,  naturally,  differ  as  to  the  precise  importance 
to  mankind  of  any  one  among  several  inventions  that  may  be 
fairly  termed  epoch  making.  It  is  beyond  dispute,  for  instance, 
that  the  introduction  of  the  art  of  printing  into  western  Europe 
had  effects  upon  the  destinies  of  our  race  as  momentous  as  those 
of  the  battle  of  Marathon.  But  how  are  we  to  determine  the 
relative  importance  of  the  discovery  of  antiseptic  surgery  ?  That 
miracle  of  medical  science  has  revolutionized  the  life  of  every 
civilized  community.  But  the  influence  of  the  invention  of 
printing  upon  the  life  of  every  man,  woman  and  child  in  the 
world  is  a  direct  one.  Antiseptic  surgery  affects  each  of  us  in- 
directly—  more  or  less.  Green  and  Macaulay  seem  to  agree 
that  those  inventions  which  directly  influence  the  course  of  our 


282  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

every  day  lives  —  those  which  relate  to  our  food  and  our  cloth- 
ing, our  light  and  our  letters  —  have  really  wrought  the  social 
revolutions  which  make  civilization  what  it  is. 

This  theory,  if  sound,  narrows  the  area  of  dispute,  certainly, 
but  it  leaves  much  room  for  disagreement.  The  importance 
attributable  to  any  invention  depends  upon  the  point  of  view. 
The  five  supreme  names  in  literature,  says  Lowell,  are  those  of 
Homer,  Dante,  Shakespeare,  Cervantes  and  Goethe.  The  five 
great  captains  of  the  world,  thinks  Jomini,  are  Hannibal,  Alexan- 
der, Julius  Caesar,  Frederick  the  Great  and  Napoleon.  But  from 
what  fields  of  invention  shall  we  choose  five  great  names  to  go 
with  these?  Close,  indeed,  would  be  a  competition  between  the 
inventor  of  the  mariner^s  compass  and  the  discoverer  of  the  cir- 
culation of  the  blood,  the  inventor  of  the  power  loom  and  the 
inventor  of  the  electric  telegraph,  the  originator  of  the  locomo- 
tive and  the  pioneer  of  the  steamboat. 

Green,  clearly,  has  blazed  the  best  path  through  this  forest 
of  controversy.  The  inventions  that  have  wrought  social  revolu- 
tions are  the  inventions  of  first  importance  from  the  every  day 
point  of  view  of  the  practical  man.  The  list  is  still  a  long  one, 
and  there  is  no  need  to  exhaust  it.  Our  concern  is  with  those 
only  which  have  vitality  and  a  future  in  the  life  of  the  twentieth 
century.  An  invention  may  have  immortalized  a  man  and  have 
survived  to  a  green  old  age,  but  it  would  be  aside  from  the  pur- 
pose to  pen  its  obituary  here.  The  inventions  which  are  doing 
more  and  more  of  the  world^s  work,  not  those  which  are  doing 
less  and  less  of  it,  call  for  the  study  of  the  twentieth  century 
bread  winner. 

Testing  contemporary  inventions,  therefore,  by  the  law  of  the 
survival  of  the  industrially  fittest,  we  find  some  seven  or  eight 
great  weapons  in  the  arsenals  of  the  captains  of  industry.  They 
are  the  cotton-gin,  the  sewing  machine,  the  reaper  and  thresher, 
the  rubber  manufacturing  process,  the  typewriter,  the  cylinder 
printing  press  and  the  typesetting  machine.  Each  of  these  con- 
trivances is  directly  influencing  the  daily  life  of  every  civilized 
man,  woman  and  child.  Each,  in  its  way,  has  wrought  a  revolu- 
tion as  radical  as  that  which  followed  the  expulsion  of  the  Tar- 
quins  or  the  fall  of  the  Bastile.  Macaulay  tells  us  that  Eli 
Whitney,  the  inventor  of  the  cotton-gin,  did  more  to  make  the 
United  States  a  mighty  nation  than  was  ever  accomplished  by 


WONDER-WORKING    INVENTIONS  283 

Peter  the  Great  for  the  elevation  of  Kussia  to  tlie  rank  of  a  great 
power.  The  winning  of  the  west,  in  the  pioneer  days  of  this 
republic,  did  not  make  the  wilderness  to  blossom  as  the  rose  until 
the  advent  of  the  McCormick  reaper,  which  has  been  styled  ''  the 
greatest  of  expansionists."  Guizot  thought  the  cylinder  printing 
press  the  father  of  universal  suffrage,  while  wide  circulation  has 
been  given  to  Charles  Keade's  saying  that  he  would  feel  less 
anxiety  regarding  the  future  of  a  son  of  his  who  understood  the 
typewriter  than  a  son  who  understood  Latin  or  Greek.  However, 
in  pronouncing  a  panegyric  upon  Goodyear,  the  perfector  of  the 
rubber  product,  Joseph  Holt,  one  of  the  most  famous  of  our 
country^s  Patent  Commissioners,  paid  a  tribute  sufficiently  com- 
prehensive to  embrace  all  the  achievements  which,  like  those  now 
to  be  considered,  added  a  new  world  to  an  old  one  as  certainly 
as  did  the  immortal  voyage  of  Columbus.  "  The  fruits  of  the 
inventor's  genius,"  wrote  Holt,  in  his  estimate  of  Goodyear, 
"  will  endure  as  imperishable  memorials  and,  surviving  the  wreck 
of  creeds  and  systems,  alike  of  politics,  religion  and  philosophy, 
will  diffuse  their  blessings  to  all  lands  and  throughout  all  ages." 
The  stories  of  these  men  —  the  Howes,  the  Whitneys,  the 
McCormicks  —  are  not  less  wonderful  than  their  achievements. 
They  read  like  modernized  tales  of  the  bold  Spanish  conquista- 
dores  or  fantastical  imitations  of  the  Arabian  nights.  In  the 
good,  old  fashioned  style,  we  follow  our  hero  through  poverty 
and  obscurity  until,  transformed  into  a  new  Aladdin,  he  has  but 
to  rub  his  lamp  —  or  have  somebody  else  rub  it  —  to  create 
wealth  greater  than  that  which  Pizarro  bore  back  to  Spain.  We 
are  lifted  from  an  abj^ss  of  despair  to  a  climax  of  triumph  as 
thrilling,  as  moving  to  the  imagination,  as  that  immortalized  by 
Keats  in  the  most  famous  of  all  sonnets : 

"  Then  felt  I  like  some  watcher  of  the  skies 

When  a  new  planet  swims  into  his  ken, 
Or  like  stout  Cortez,  when  with  eagle  eyes 

He  stared  at  the  Pacific,  and  all  his  men 
Gazed  at  each  other  with  a  wild  surmise  — 

Silent  upon  a  peak  in  Darien." 

HOW  THE  COTTON"-GIN"  ESTABLISHED  THE  GREATNESS  OE  THE 

SOUTH. 

When  Eli  WTiitney  was  born  in  the  little  Massachusetts  town 
of  Westborough,   in  the  year  1765^  that  famed  and  splendid 


284  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

region  to  which  we  Americans  give  the  name  of  "  The  South  " 
seemed,  to  all  human  appearance,  on  the  eve  of  a  melancholy 
decline.  The  fine  old  gentlemen  of  Virginia  still  went  about 
in  their  coaches  and  six,  dispensing  a  hospitality  to  which  the 
high  price  of  tobacco,  the  swarms  of  black  slaves  and  the  vir- 
ginity of  the  soil  imparted  both  luxury  and  lordliness.  Great 
estates  yet  flourished  along  the  coast,  especially  in  South  Caro- 
lina, where  plantations  of  rice,  indigo  and  corn  had  created  an 
aristocracy  as  exclusive  as  that  of  contemporary  Vienna.  But 
the  spirit  of  these  proud  people  was  ever3'where  heavy  with  a 
sense  of  impending  catastrophe.  The  weight  of  mortgages  was 
growing  more  and  more  burdensome.  The  possession  of  a  great 
estate  had  become  a  source  of  embarrassment.  The  interior  of 
the  country  did  not  fill  up.  The  thriftier  white  inhabitants  were 
looking  to  the  west,  while  the  heads  of  the  great  families  grew 
lonelier  with  the  passing  years,  which  brought  them  diminished 
profits  and  accumulating  debts.  ^'  Poor  old  Virginia !  '^  ex- 
claimed John  Eandolph,  the  last  of  a  long  line  of  slowly  ruined 
tobacco  lords.  "  Poor  old  Virginia ! ''  And  it  did  seem,  for 
some  dark  years,  as  if  the  Old  Dominion  were  but  heading  some 
stately  procession  to  the  almshouse. 

What  made  the  situation  the  more  tantalizing  was  the  prolific 
exuberance  with  which  the  cotton  plant  spread  itself  over  so 
many  of  these  debtor  states.  Civilized  man  had  begun  to  call 
for  cotton,  while  in  the  one  region  where  this  plant  really  thrived 
its  culture  was  a  source  of  despair.  The  constant  labor  of  the 
most  industrious  slave  barely  sufficed  for  the  production  of  a 
single  bale  of  cotton  after  three  months  of  laborious  separation 
of  the  fibre  from  the  seed.  The  difficulty  lay  in  this  work  of 
extracting  the  seed  from  the  cotton  itself.  Meanwhile,  over  in 
England,  a  factory  hand,  Arkwright,  introduced  an  invention 
that  was  to  change  the  face  of  Lancashire.  But  Arkwright's 
power  loom  was  still  waiting  impatiently  until  the  planters  of 
the  cotton-producing  regions  had  been  provided  with  means  of 
overcoming  the  sole  barrier  between  themselves  and  opulence. 
It  would,  of  course,  be  the  idlest  platitude  to  observe  that  not 
one  of  these  fine  southern  gentlemen  remotely  dreamed  of  the 
existence  of  the  little  lad  in  far-off  New  England  who  was  yet 
to  make  them  all  rich  and  powerful  and  himself  the  greatest 
of  sufferers  from  man's  ingratitude. 


WONDER-WORKING    INVENTIONS  285 

As  Eli  Whitney  grew  up  on  his  father's  farm,  the  inventive- 
ness he  displayed  on  all  occasions  made  him  famous  for  miles 
around  before  he  was  out  of  his  teens.  He  was  the  only  boy  of 
twelve  in  all  Massachusetts  who  could  put  a  watch  together  after 
having  taken  it  to  pieces,  and  whose  fiddles,  entirely  the  work 
of  his  own  hands,  could  be  sold  for  money  in  the  great  city  of 
Boston  itself.  He  monopolized  the  local  nail  trade  when  he  was 
fifteen,  and  in  a  few  more  years  his  profits  as  a  maker  of  knives, 
pins  and  tools,  turned  out  in  his  evening's  leisure  when  the  day's 
labor  on  the  farm  w^as  done,  enabled  him  to  go  to  Yale.  Here 
he  gave  a  new  lease  of  life  to  the  philosophical  apparatus  by  the 
execution  of  sadly  needed  repairs,  but,  instead  of  proceeding  to 
Boston  upon  his  graduation,  as  might  have  been  expected,  he 
accepted  an  engagement  as  tutor  in  that  remote  region  of  the 
earth  known  as  Georgia. 

The  South  was  a  long  way  from  New  England  in  1790,  and 
when  Whitney  reached  the  great  plantation  he  learned  that  the 
post  of  tutor,  which  he  came  so  far  to  fill,  had  been  given  to 
another.  His  plight  was  a  sorry  one,  and,  when  information  of 
it  reached  the  widow  of  a  revolutionary  hero,  then  residing  on 
the  Savannah  Eiver,  she  provided  young  Whitney  with  a  home 
on  her  estate.    He  now  made  up  his  mind  to  study  law. 

But  Blackstone  can  no  more  suppress  an  inventor  than  he  can 
crush  a  poet.  The  lady  who  had  so  opportunely  come  to  his  aid 
was  speedily  repaid  a  hundredfold  by  the  utility  of  the  innumer- 
able contrivances  with  which  Eli  Whitney  met  every  one  of  her 
domestic  emergencies.  He  rejuvenated  all  the  antique  mechan- 
ism on  the  estate  and  turned  out  knives,  tools  and  even  engines 
that  surpassed  in  neatness  and  utility  the  high-priced  importa- 
tions from  London.  His  friend  speedily  saw  in  her  young  guest 
the  eighth  wonder  of  the  world  and  when  one  day  she  begged  him 
to  invent  the  cotton-gin  she  felt  all  a  woman's  implicit  confidence 
in  the  genius  of  her  hero.  "  Eli  Whitney,"  explained  Mistress 
Greene,  "  can  make  anvthins^." 

She  was  addressing  a  convivial  gathering  which,  in  the  lavish 
fashion  of  those  spacious  southern  days,  had  assembled  about  a 
vfell  spread  table  to  be  attended  by  a  multitude  of  slaves.  To 
anyone  but  Eli  Whitney  the  lady's  perfect  faith  might  have 
presented  a  few  embarrassments.  Cotton  seed  he  had  never 
beheld,  for  it  was  not  yet  in  season.     Wire,  which  he  at  once 


286 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


perceived  to  be  the  first  requisite,  could  not  be  procured  in  any 
part  of  Georgia  then.  The  plant  itself  was  not  in  bloom.  What 
tools  he  might  require  he  could  not  even  guess.  In  any  event, 
he  must  make  them  himself.  Under  such  auspices  the  young 
man  from  New  England  set  to  work. 

It  took  weeks  of  spider-like  patience  to  fashion  the  tools  and 
draw  the  wire,  months  to  obtain  sufficient  cotton  for  the  first 
discouraging  experiments  with  hopeful  gins  that  stuck  fast  and 
turned  out  failures  when  they  gave  most  promise.  The  object 
to  which  Eli  Whitney  was  devoting  his  leisure  inspired  a  few 
wags  in  the  state  to  jest  at  his  expense.    But  that  New  England 


The  First  Cotton-Gin. 

conscience  of  his  could  not  give  up.     At  last  he  had  made  a 
cotton-gin. 

What  a  breathless  moment  when  his  triumph  was  finally  re- 
vealed to  a  group  of  his  hostess'  guests,  who  trooped  over  from 
the  mansion  to  Eli  Whitney's  workshop !  They  saw  a  contriv- 
ance like  a  crated  mangle.  It  was,  in  essentials,  a  long  cylinder 
provided  with  a  succession  of  circular  saws,  the  latter  projecting 
just  enough  to  catch  the  cotton  fed  through  a  hopper.  When 
"Whitney  turned  the  handle,  the  saws  gripped  the  cotton  and 
rejected  the  seed,  which  was  not  small  enough  to  get  by.  But 
at  the  climax  of  the  enthusiasm  which  the  sight  inspired,  there 


WONDER-WORKING    INVENTIONS  287 

happened  another  of  those  unfortunate  accidents.  The  cotton 
became  packed  too  tightly  in  the  teeth  of  the  saws  and  the  gin 
stopped  short.  One  of  the  ladies  seized  a  brush  and  cleaned  the 
teeth.  The  hint  was  enough  for  Whitney.  He  added  a  cylinder 
of  brushes  to  the  C3dinder  of  saws  and  the  South  of  ante-bellum 
days  was  started  on  its  great  career.  'No  subsequent  improve- 
ment modified  the  essential  principle  of  the  cotton-gin. 

The  first  effect  of  the  Yankee  youth's  invention  was  to  confer 
immense  importance  upon  the  slave.  The  vastness  of  the  cotton 
agriculture  that  spread  throughout  the  South,  stimulated  by  im- 
provements in  England's  spinning  and  weaving  machinery,  had 
momentous  consequences  because  the  importation  of  slaves  into 
the  United  States  was  prohibited  by  the  constitution  after  1808. 
Now,  the  cotton-gin,  augmenting  the  demand  for  slaves,  im- 
mensely influenced  those  southern  states,  which  grew  no  cotton, 
but  which  tolerated  slavery.  These  were  transformed  into  slave- 
breeding  states,  and  were  made  feeders  for  the  cotton  plantations. 
Jefferson's  hope  that  slaver}^  would  die  a  natural  death  perished 
with  the  advent  of  the  cotton-gin.  It  gave  rise  to  two  conflicting 
social  systems  within  the  union.  The  vast  estates  of  the  southern 
plantation  magnates  became  a  source  of  solvency  instead  of  a 
source  of  debt.  Black  slaves  and  white  dependents  created  that 
influential  class  of  southern  statesmen  who  for  some  fifty  years 
held  sway  in  this  republic  and  who  strove  at  last,  through  civil 
war,  to  maintain  a  social  system  which  seemed  to  them  the  only 
true  one  for  the  cotton  belt.  The  long  and  terrible  conflict  which 
seemed  in  the  dark  days  of  Lincoln's  administration  to  be 
rending  the  republic  asunder  can  be  traced  directly  to  the  cotton- 
gin  upon  which  Eli  Whitney  expended  so  much  of  his  inventive 
genius. 

And  he,  like  the  ungrammatical  sailor  of  Kipling's  poem, 
could  exclaim :  "  It  never  done  no  good  to  me !  "  There  was  a 
rush  to  duplicate  his  cotton-gin,  the  simplicity  of  the  contrivance 
lending  itself  to  evasion  of  Whitney's  rights  as  inventor.  Patent 
laws  were  chaotic  in  those  days  and  courts  were  not  over  nice 
in  their  rulings.  One  or  two  state  legislatures  in  the  South 
voted  small  sums  to  Whitney,  who,  after  years  of  disappointing 
law  suits,  finally  went  back  to  New  England  and  turned  his 
talents  to  firearms.  He  was  well-to-do  when  he  died  in  1825, 
and  his  name  can  never  be  forgotten,  for  he  is  the  only  inventor 
who  brought  on  —  innocently  enough  —  a  civil  war. 


288  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

THE   SEWING   MACHINE   ABOLISHES   A   FUNDAMENTAL   CLASS 
DISTINCTION. 

In  this  effervescent  twentieth  century,  every  youth  who  longs 
for  the  favor  of  that  great  god,  success,  is  told  to  dress  well.  It 
is  no  very  difficult  thing  to  do  nowadays,  even  though  one  be 
poor.  That  great  journalist  and  student  of  social  problems,  the 
late  Edwin  Lawrence  Godkin,  was  of  opinion  that  what  he  called 
"  the  note  of  quietness  "  in  men's  attire  had  caused  a  far-reach- 
ing revolution  by  abolishing  a  fundamental  class  distinction. 

Mr.  Godkin's  theory  is  strikingly  confirmed  by  the  state  of 
fashion  in  this  country  as  recently  as  the  administration  of 
President  Jefferson.  In  those  days  the  mere  mechanical  labor 
involved  in  sewing  a  man's  coat  and  shirts  made  neatness  of 
attire  a  class  distinction  of  the  most  decided  kind.  A  man's 
social  importance  rose  with  the  number  of  seams  in  his  garments, 
and  if  we  go  back  as  far  as  the  days  of  President  Washington,  we 
find  the  ruffle  and  the  hem  regarded  with  the  awe  now  reserved 
for  the  automobile  and  the  coat  of  arms.  That  revolutionary 
hero,  John  Hancock,  boasted  of  the  endless  stitching  involved  in 
the  production  of  his  least  flamboyant  waistcoat,  while  the 
humble  artisan  of  that  era  was  content  to  swathe  himself  in 
what,  for  want  of  needlework,  resembled  an  assortment  of  coal 


The  great  change  that  has  been  wrought  since  then  is  due  to 
the  sewing  machine,  the  mighty  equalizer  of  opportunity  in  all 
that  relates  to  the  attire  of  mankind.  An  English  economist 
asserts  that  if  the  workingmen  of  Great  Britain  would  cease  the 
purchase  of  beer  and  tobacco  they  could  all  afford  to  dress  better 
than  peers  of  the  realm  usually  do.  That  was  not  the  case  when 
the  inventor  of  the  sewing  machine  was  a  boy. 

His  name  was  Elias  Howe  and  he  was  born  in  Spencer,  Massa- 
chusetts, in  1819.  His  lot  in  life  was  that  of  the  factory  hand, 
and  he  began  to  work  when  he  was  only  six.  He  was  noticeable, 
in  spite  of  his  sickliness  and  lameness,  for  graciousness  of  man- 
ner and  for  good  looks  much  above  the  average.  But  he  does 
not  seem  to  have  been  the  kind  of  lad  who  goes  home  when  the 
day's  work  is  done  and  pores  over  books.  On  the  contrary,  he 
was  thought  rather  idle  and  a  little  incompetent.  As  he  grew  up, 
he  drifted  aimlessly  from  mill  to  mill  and  at  last  he  got  married. 


WONDER-WORKING    INVENTIONS  1289 

By  the  time  he  had  three  children  he  was  next  door  to  a  pauper, 
the  labor  of  the  wife  being  one  of  the  barriers  between  himself 
and  starvation.  He  was  snch  a  physical  wreck  at  this  time  that 
when  he  got  home  from  work  he  would  lie  down  for  the  rest  of 
the  evening,  while  his  wife,  who  was  going  into  consumption, 
stitched  until  the  night  was  far  gone. 


-  Elias  Howe. 

Howe,  whose  career  had  by  this  time  confirmed  the  impression 
of  the  few  who  knew  him  that  he  was  ''  shiftless,"  was  of  what 
is  called  an  inventive  turn  of  mind.  Before  he  broke  down  he 
would  spend  hours  of  his  leisure  in  the  contrivance  of  spinning 
and  weaving  mechanisms  and  in  haunting  the  workshops  of  in- 
ventors  as  poor  and  as  hopeless,  for  the  most  part,  as  himself. 
And  as  he  watched  his  wife  at  her  sewing,  night  after  night,  he 
would  say  how  pitiful  it  seemed  that  such  monotonous,  me- 
chanical toil  should  have  to  be  done  by  hand. 

This  idea  gave  him  no  rest.  Howe  did  not  know  that  other 
minds  had  attacked  the  problem  before  him.  He  had  never 
heard  of  the  Thomas  Saint  who,  a  hundred  3^ears  before  himself, 
made  a  machine  that  sewed  and  relapsed  into  oblivion.  Yankee 
inventiveness  had  likewise  wrestled  with  mechanical  needles, 
operated  by  shuttles  and  lathes.  One  of  these  would  even  sew 
leather.  But  they  all  came  to  nothing. 
19 


290  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

So  Howe  went  to  work  as  a  pioneer.  There  was  no  past 
experience  by  which  he  could  guide  himself  to  success.  He  made 
up  his  mind  at  the  start  that  fine  thread  could  never  be  used  in 
a  sewing  machine.  Next  he  concluded  that  the  needle  would 
have  to  be  pointed  at  both  ends  and  have  the  eye  in  the  middle. 
Finally,  it  appeared  to  him  that  a  practical  sewing  machine  must 
imitate  the  movements  of  the  human  hand  plying  a  needle. 

Having  framed  these  hopeful  hypotheses,  Howe  set  to  work. 
After  two  years  of  dire  poverty  and  ill  health,  spent  in  experi- 
menting, he  produced  a  mechanism  which,  with  the  aid  of  stout 
cord,  imitated  sewing  in  a  rudimentary  way.  The  friends  to 
whom  he  showed  this  triumph  referred  to  him  sorrowfully  behind 
his  back  and  tapped  their  foreheads  with  much  significance. 

"  One  day,  in  the  midst  of  his  meditations,"  writes  Charles 
Kent,  with  whose  vivid  account  we  shall  conclude  this  story  of 
Howe,  ^^the  thought  startled  him  —  need  the  machine,  after  all, 
imitate  the  movements  of  the  fingers  ?  Might  not  there  possibly 
be  a  different  and  yet  an  equally  effective  stitch  ?  Following  up 
these  reflections,  the  notion  occurred  to  him  that  with  the  help 
of  two  threads  instead  of  one  the  design  arrived  at  might  be 
effectually  accomplished.  To  brjjig  these  two  auxiliary  threads 
into  play,  he  thought  first  of  the  Curved  Eye-pointed  Needle, 
and  in  the  next  place  of  the  aerial  Shuttle.  By  the  October  of 
1844,  he  had  made  clear  to  himself  with  a  rude  model  of  such 
rough  materials  as  wood  and  wire,  that  a  Sewing  Machine  such 
as  he  was  now  dreaming  of,  might  be  readily  manufactured. 

"  Fixing  his  thoughts  thus  upon  his  self-appointed  task  at  ev- 
ery possible  opportunity  in  the  midst  of  his  daily  grind  as  a  han- 
dicraftsman, Howe  at  length,  by  the  December  of  that  year,  saw 
his  way  so  clearly  to  the  realization  of  his  long-cherished  day- 
dream, that  he  determined  not  only  to  quit  Boston  but  at  the 
.same  time  to  abandon  all  his  usual  avocations  —  so  that  he  might 
in  point  of  fact,  from  that  time  forward,  give  himself  up  entirely 
to  his  one  all-mastering  enterprise.  Having  resolutely  made  up 
his  mind  to  this  new  course  of  life,  he  thereupon  took  possession 
of  a  particularly  small,  low  garret  in  the  house  of  one  Mr.  George 
Fisher,  a  newspaper  publisher  and  coal  merchant,  in  Cambridge- 
port,  Massachusetts.  Shutting  himself  up  there  in  complete 
seclusion,  Elias  Howe  applied  his  subtle  intellect  and  his  supple 


WONDER-WORKING    INVENTIONS  291 

hands,  early  and  late,  to  the  imparting  of  the  last  finishing 
touches  to  his  marvelous  little  piece  of  mechanism.  Four  months 
of  intense  application  brought  to  him  at  length  his  long-looked- 
for  reward. 

"  In  the  April  of  1845,  the  young  inventor,  being  then  just 
twenty-six  years  of  age,  by  sewing  a  seam  with  his  contrivance^ 
vanquished  his  last  mechanical  difficulty  in  his  garret  at  Cam- 
bridgeport.  Emerging  from  it,  he  brought  out  with  him  perfect 
and  entire  —  the  work  of  his  own  brain  and  the  work  of  his 
own  hands  —  a  Sewing  Machine  which,  in  obedience  to  the  turn- 
ing of  a  handle,  ran  off,  with  mathematical  accuracy  and  with 
dazzling  rapidity,  150  lock-stitches  in  half  a  minute;  an  average 
of  30  stitches  in  exactly  double  that  time  being  alone  possible 
by  means  of  hand-sewing ! 

"  With  that  earliest  constructed  of  all  sewing-machines  — 
which  is  still  preserved  intact,  and  which  is  a  very  small  piece  of 
mechanism  —  a  couple  of  suits  of  clothes  of  the  very  finest  broad- 
cloth were  with  astonishing  swiftness  put  together  in  the  July 
of  1845,  one  of  which  w^as  worn  by  the  inventor  himself,  and 
the  other  by  the  owner  of  the  garret,  who,  for  giving  the  man 
of  genius  food  and  shelter  there  for  less  than  half  a  year,  secured 
to  himself,  in  return  for  a  nominal  sum  of  $500  one  moiety  of 
this  extraordinary  invention.  Consequent  upon  that  rather  hard 
bargain,  a  patent  was  taken  out  on  the  10th  of  September,  1846, 
in  their  joint  names  as  the  owners  of  the  latest  World  Wonder. 
'  Thus,^  as  the  familiar  words  run,  '  bad  begins,  but  worse 
remains  behind.^  Eleven  days  after  the  patent  had  been  granted 
to  him  for  his  magical  contrivance,  Eli  as  Howe,  driven  by  neces- 
sity, had  no  alternative  but,  in  return  for  a  nominal  sum  of 
$1,000,  to  assign  the  other  half  of  his  property  in-  it  to  his  father, 
in  satisfaction  of  the  latter's  claims  upon  him  for  certain  small 
loans  of  money,  and  for  so  much,  or  rather  it  ought  more  cor- 
rectly to  be  said,  for  so  little  board  and  lodging^ ! 

"  Thus,  upon  the  very  morrow  of  the  completion  of  his  inven- 
tion, Howe  found  himself  completely  stripped  of  any  chance  of 
securing  in  the  United  States  themselves,  the  smallest  advantage 
from  its  adoption.  For  a  while  he  was  driven  to  such  straits  in 
point  of  fact,  that  he  obtained  emplo3^ment  for  an  interval  as  a 
locomotive  engineer  on  one  of  the  railroads  —  day  after  day,  for 
many  weeks  together,  taking  charge  of  his  locomotive. 


292 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


"  Alarmed  lest  he  might  otherwise  fail  to  reap  any  further 
benefit  from  it  whatever,  Elias  Howe  despatched  his  brother 
Amasa  at  once  to  England  to  see  after  his  interests  in  connection 
with  the  patent  in  that  country.  Thither,  in  the  February  of 
1847,  he  himself  followed;  being  followed  in  his  turn  a  little 
later  by  his  wife  and  his  three  children  —  Amasa  having  mean- 


The  First  Sewing  Machine. 


while  parted  with  the  whole  of  the  inventor's  rights  in  the  Eng- 
lish patent  for  the  modest  sum  of  250  pounds  paid  down  for  them 
by  Mr.  William  Thomas,  a  corset  manufacturer  of  Cheapside,  in 
the  city  of  London.  Apart  from  that  paltry  sum,  and  a  verbal 
promise  which  was  never  fulfilled  that  the  purchaser  would  pay 


WONDER-WORKING    INVENTIONS  293 

to  the  inventor  three  pounds  for  every  machine  that  was  sold,  the 
only  lure  held  out  to  Elias  Howe  as  an  inducement  to  him  to 
cross  the  Atlantic,  had  been  the  proffered  payment  to  him  of  a 
weekly  wage  of  three  pounds  sterling,  in  return  for  which  the 
contriver  of  the  Sewing  Machine  actually  came  all  the  way  from 
the  new  world  to  the  old  merely  to  adapt  his  wonderful  con- 
trivance to  the  petty  requirements  of  the  London  stay  manu- 
facturer! When  those  requirements  were  satisfied  the  three 
pounds  a  week  ceased,  Howe  being  then  left,  in  a  strange  land, 
completely  to  his  own  resources.  During  the  rest  of  his  sojourn 
in  England,  which  lengthened  out  to  some  two  years  altogether, 
the  inventor  was  driven  to  the  direst  straits,  being  at  one  time 
even  thrown  into  a  debtor^s  prison.  Eventually,  however,  though 
not  until  after  he  had  run  a  gauntlet  of  a  long  series  of  humilia- 
tions, he  contrived  to  obtain  his  passage  back  to  America  —  land- 
ing at  N'ew  York,  before  the  close  of  1849,  in  a  state  of  complete 
destitution.  Upon  the  very  day  after  his  arrival  he  resumed  his 
old  labors  as  a  journe3^man  machinist.  His  cup  of  affliction  was 
not  yet  drunk  to  the  dregs,  however;  for,  only  a  few  days  after 
he  had  settled  down  to  work,  he  was  hurriedly  summoned  home 
to  Cambridgeport  by  the  news  of  his  wife's  alarming  illness  from 
consumption.  Hastening  thither  upon  the  instant,  he  had  the 
grief  of  seeing  her  die  in  his  arms  before  the  close  of  another 
fortnight. 

'^  Eemoving  shortly  after  this  great  home  sorrow  to  Eoxbury 
in  Massachusetts,  Elias  Howe  for  four  years  together,  from  1850 
to  1853,  each  inclusive,  was  engaged  in  a  series  of  expensive  law- 
suits against  a  multitude  of  persons  in  various  parts  of  the 
States  who  were  openly  and  in  the  most  flagrant  manner  in- 
fringing the  rights  of  his  invention.  At  length,  however,  in  the 
year  last  mentioned,  at  the  close  of  one  of  these  same  lawsuits  — 
a  crucial  one  involving  more  or  less  the  whole  of  the  numerous 
questions  which  had  been  so  long  in  dispute  —  the  verdict  was 
given  emphatically  in  favor  of  Elias  Howe  after  a  trial  of  no 
less  than  three  weeks'  duration.  Judge  Sprague  of  Massachu- 
setts, who  adjudicated  upon  the  occasion,  decided  that  the  plain- 
tiff's claim  was  valid,  and  that  the  defendant's  machine  was  an 
infringement.  Further  than  that  he  insisted  in  so  many  words 
that  there  was  no  evidence  in  this  case  leaving  a  shadow  of  a 
doubt  that  for  all  the  benefit  conferred  upon  the  public  by  the 


294  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

introduction  of  a  Sewing  Machine  the  public  was  indebted  to 
Elias  Howe. 

"  That  decision  was  the  signal  for  him  of  a  new  and  most  hap- 
py departure.  On  the  18th  of  May,  1853,  there  was  accorded  to 
him  full  power  to  grant  licenses,  of  which  within  six  years  from 
that  date  he  had  actually  issued  over  130,000,  yielding  him  a  net 
return  of  more  than  $400,000.  Meanwhile,  before  half  that  in- 
terval had  elapsed,  he  had,  on  the  1st  October,  1855,  by  the  pur- 
chase of  all  outstanding  claims,  become  once  more  in  the  United 
States  the  sole  owner  of  his  patent  for  the  Automatic  Sewing 
Machine.  His  income  from  it  thenceforth  steadily  increased 
until  it  soon  reached  an  annual  sum  of  $200,000. 

'^  When  the  American  civil  war  broke  out  the  famous  inventor 
of  the  Sewing  Machine  was  enlisted  as  a  private  soldier  in  one 
of  the  Connecticut  regiments :  in  connection  with  which  circum- 
stance it  is  mentioned  in  his  regard,  as  illustrating  at  once  the 
influence  and  the  patriotism  of  the  once  poverty-stricken  man  of 
genius,  that  when  the  payment  of  the  regiment  had  been  for 
some  time  delayed  by  the  government.  Private  Howe  out  of  his 
full  coffers  advanced  the  necessary  money. 

"  Shortly  after  the  completion  of  his  forty-eighth  3^ear,  the 
inventor  of  the  Sewing  Machine  was  decorated  with  the  Cross 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor  by  the  Emperor  Napoleon  III.  But, 
ten  years  later,  Elias  Howe's  eventually  prosperous  career  was 
closed  rather  prematurely  by  his  death  on  the  3rd  October,  1867, 
in  Brooklyn,  the  fortune  realized  by  him  down  to  that  date  being 
estimated  in  round  numbers  at  $2,000,000." 

goodtear's  conquest  of  india-rubber. 

A  melancholy  little  funeral  procession  wound  its  way  through 
wet  Massachusetts  lanes  on  a  certain  rainy  morning  in  the  year 
1840.  The  unsparing  poverty  which  had  reduced  the  five  mourn- 
ers to  trudge  afoot  behind  the  rude  little  coflfin  in  a  rude  little 
wagon  was  the  most  poignant  element  of  melancholy  in  the 
whole  spectacle.  The  two  little  children  clinging  to  their  moth- 
er's skirts  were  literally  in  rags.  Indigent  old  age  had  set  its 
seal  upon  the  grandfather,  the  vigor  of  whose  senile  arm  was 
all  that  restrained  the  pauper  son  at  his  side  from  sinking  to  the 
earth  in  the  weakness  of  wasted  health.     No  member  of  the 


WONDER-WORKING    INVENTIONS  295 

family  had  eaten  food  that  day.  The  charity  of  neighbors,  upon 
which  these  people  had  subsisted  for  weeks,  must  have  worn 
itself  out. 

The  name  of  the  unfortunate  man  who  thus  accompanied  his 
child  to  its  last  earthly  repose  was  Charles  Groodyear,  But  a 
short  time  before  he  had  been  released  from  a  debtor's  prison, 
where  he  had  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  five  preceding  years. 
The  few  friends  who  still  interested  themselves  in  the  fortunes 
of  so  miserable  a  failure  in  life  protested,  in  their  desire  to  take 
the  most  charitable  view  of  his  case,  that  he  was  crazy.  The 
nature  of  his  mental  failing  was  summed  up  in  the  compound 
word  ^'  India-rubber.^^  On  all  other  subjects  he  was  as  rational 
as  any  man  alive,  but  the  moment  the  one  fatal  topic  was  intro- 
duced his  reason  fled. 

Goodyear^s  career  had  been  of  a  kind  to  inspire  compassion 
in  the  most  malignant  enemy.  Coming  into  the  world  with  the 
nineteenth  century,  and  born  of  a  long  line  of  shrewd  and 
ingenious  Yankee  ancestors,  he  had  been  bred  to  the  hardware 
trade  by  his  father,  at  one  time  a  prominent  Philadelphia  mer- 
chant. The  son  started  life  in  the  Quaker  city  with  every 
prospect  of  success.  But  a  financial  panic  which  spread  through- 
out the  south  in  the  thirties  compelled  the  Coodyears  to  call  a 
meeting  of  their  creditors.  The  firm,  gallantly  undertaking  to 
pay  a  hundred  cents  on  the  dollar,  slid  at  last  to  the  bottom  of 
the  hill  of  bankruptcy.  Charles  Goodyear  felt  that  the  family 
must  get  out  of  hardware. 

The  Goodyears  had  always  been  an  inventive  lot.  They  gave 
a  new  hay  fork  to  the  world,  and  chancing  to  see  a  life-preserver 
one  day,  Charles  wondered  if  the  family  might  not  give  a  new 
life-preserver  to  the  world.  Spurred  by  the  thought  of  becom- 
ing solvent  once  more,  Mr.  Goodyear  evolved  an  article  from  the 
product  of  the  gum  tree  and  hied  with  it  to  New  York. 

His  experience  in  that  metropolis  gave  the  lie,  in  striking 
fashion,  to  all  the  stories  he  had  ever  heard  regarding  the  ob- 
stacles in  the  way  of  inventive  genius.  Not  only  did  the  head 
of  the  first  great  rubber  manufacturing  company  to  whom  he 
exhibited  his  model  receive  him  with  the  utmost  cordifilit)^,  but 
Mr.  Goodyear  was  also  assured  that  his  invention  would  be  an 
instantaneous  success  and  he  was  implored  to  invent  something 
more. 


"2§Q  MODEIiX  INVENTIONS 

The  "fact  is  that,  without  knowing  it,  the  bankrupt  Philadel- 
phian  had  accomplished  the  feat  known  nowadaj'S  as  seizing  the 
ps3'chological  moment.  The  whole  rubber  industry  of  the 
United  States,  although  flourishing  at  that  time  like  a  green  bay- 
tree,  was  threatened  with  destruction  root  and  branch.  The 
people  had  begun  to  rebel  against  rubber  boots  which  collapsed 
in  the  heat  of  a  summer  day  to  a  mass  of  glue  so  malodorous  as 
to  necessitate  burial  or  froze  in  the  depth  of  winter  to  the  rigid- 
ity and  weight  of  cast  iron.  The  great  warehouses  of  the  manu- 
facturing companies  were  filled  with  an  unsalable  product,  and 
Charles  Goodyear  was  told  that  if  he  could  solve  the  problem 
thus  presented  fame  and  fortune  would  be  his. 

Eagerly  he  undertook  the  task.  The  effect  upon  his  fortunes 
has  been  told. 

It  is  no  doubt  a  very  fortunate  thing  for  the  world  that  no 
amount  of  obloquy  and  discouragement  suffices  to  defeat  the 
purpose  of  the  inventor  of  true  genius.  Otherwise,  Charles 
Goodyear  might  have  been  swerved  from  what  he  regarded  as  a 
divinely  appointed  mission  by  the  entreaties  of  father,  wife, 
friends.  His  descent  into  poverty  and  wretchedness  was  not  less 
trying  because  of  his  conviction  that  he  had  contrived,  by  con- 
stant study  and  experiment,  to  find  the  solution  of  the  problem 
to  which  he  had  devoted  his  life  and  talents.  The  com^bination 
of  India-rubber  and  sulphur,  mixed  in  due  proportions  and  sub- 
jected to  heat  at  the  proper  moment,  had  brought  success 
within  his  grasp,  and  conferred  a  new  industry  upon  the  world 
in  a  period  of  great  commercial  depression.  "  His  product,'' 
says  James  Parton,  the  most  accomplished  of  Good3^ear's  bio- 
graphers, "  had  more  than  the  elasticity  of  India-rubber,  while  it 
was  divested  of  all  those  properties  which  had  lessened  its  util- 
ity. It  was  still  India-rubber,  but  its  surfaces  would  not  adhere, 
nor  would  it  harden  at  any  degrees  of  cold,  nor  soften  at  any  de- 
gree of  heat.  It  was  a  cloth  impervious  to  water.  It  was  paper 
that  would  not  tear.  It  was  parchment  that  would  not  crease. 
It  was  leather  which  neither  rain  nor  sun  would  injure.  It  was 
ebony  that  could  be  run  into  a  mould.  It  was  ivory  that  could 
be  worked  like  wax.  It  was  wood  that  never  cracked,  shrunk 
nor  decayed.  It  was  metal,  elastic  metal,  as  Daniel  Webster 
called  it,  that  could  be  wound  round  the  finger  or  tied  into  a 
knot,    and    which    preserved    its    elasticity    almost    like    steel. 


WONDER-WORKING    INVENTIONS  297 

Trifling  variations  in  the  ingredients,  in  the  proportions  and  ia 
the  heating,  made  it  either  as  pliable  as  kid,  tougher  than  ox- 
hide, as  elastic  as  whalebone  or  as  rigid  as  flint/^ 

Yet  we  must  not  hastil}^  infer  that  a  man  who  could  establish 
a  claim  upon  the  attention  of  his  fellow  creatures  by  exhibiting 
a  product  so  miraculous  was  on  the  threshold  of  wealth  and  hap- 
piness. Many  a  weary  month  passed  before  the  capitalists  whose 
offices  he  haunted  could  be  brought  to  believe  in  his  perfect  san- 
ity. India-rubber  was  synonymous  in  the  industrial  world  of 
that  day  with  failure  and  fraud.  People  turned  with  suspicion 
from  any  article  into  the  composition  of  which  India-rubber  was 
alleged  to  enter.  When  Goodyear  produced  at  last  an  India- 
rubber  coat  that  kept  out  the  rain,  and  rubber  shoes  that  could 
be  worn,  more  than  one  skeptic  doubted  the  evidence  of  his  own 
senses. 

Let  us  try,  for  a  moment,  to  imagine  twentieth  century  con- 
ditions without  the  products  into  w^hich  the  "  gum-elastic  "  of 
Goodyear  enters.  The  whole  drug  trade  would  go  back  to  its 
primitive  infancy.  The  automobile  and  the  bicycle  would  be 
impossibilities.  The  transformation  of  the  Congo  region  from 
a  tropical  jungle  into  a  great  empire  is  the  work  of  Goodyear's 
invention.  The  destinies  of  the  South  American  continent  were 
shaped  anew  by  him;  He  modified  the  tactics  of  contending 
armies  in  the  field  by  enabling  them  to  take  every  battery  of  ar- 
tillery into  action  dry  in  the  teeth  of  a  pouring  rain.  He  ac-" 
celerated  the  steam  engine  with  rubber  belting  and  abated  the 
zeal  of  the  elephant  hunter  by  providing  a  cheap  substitute  for 
ivory.  He  brought  the  rain  coat  within  the  reach  of  the  person 
of  moderate  means  and  he  fathered  antiseptic  surgery. 

Wasted  to  a  shadow  by  organic  disease,  his  persevering  spirit 
dauntless  to  the  last,  robbed  by  many  who  owed  their  fortunes  to 
the  knowledge  he  had  martyred  himself  to  acquire,  Goodyear 
died  a  poor  man  in  the  sixtieth  year  of  his  age,  leaving  a  widow 
and  six  children  without  means  of  support. 

Mccormick's  reaper  wij^s  the  west. 

Cyrus  H.  McCormick,  the  inventor  of  the  first  reaping  ma- 
chine to  win  its  way,  was  a  keen  and  cautious  man  of  business. 
Throughout  his  life  he  said  little,  thought  much  and  succeeded 


298  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

always.  He  was  never  really  in  poverty  in  his  life^  and  at  his 
death  he  was  a  very  rich  man,  while  his  name  was  known  in  some 
of  the  remotest  regions  of  the  globe. 

The  McCormicks  came  originally  from  the  north  of  Ireland, 
and  they  settled  in  this  country  early  ip.  the  eighteenth  century. 
When  Cyrus  was  born  in  the  year  1809,  the  family  possessed  sev- 
eral farms  in  Virginia,  owned  and  operated  grist  and  saw  mills 
and  had  blacksmith  shops,  carpenter  shops  and  machine  shops. 
The  McCormick  of  them  all  was  Eobert,  the  father  of  Cyrus, 
known  all  over  that  part  of  the  country  in  those  days  for  his 
honesty,  his  long  Scotch-Irish  head  and  his  mechanical  turn  of 
mind.  He  had  made  a  hemp-breaker,  contrived  a  hill  plow  and 
devoted  much  of  his  spare  time  to  the  invention  of  a  reaper. 

Cyrus  began  to  work  for  his  father  at  an  early  age.  Harvest- 
ing was  laborious  business  then.  Horses  and  motors  did  not 
impel  machines  through  a  field  of  wheat  while  the  scientific  agri- 
culturist surveyed  the  performance  from  a  comfortable  seat. 
The  important  implements  at  that  time  were  the  farmer's  own 
arms  and  legs.  Cyrus,  returning  footsore  and  weary  to  the 
house  after  a  day's  severe  harvesting  in  the  fields,  loudly 
lamented  his  father's  neglect  of  the  reaping  machine,  long  since 
relegated  to  oblivion  in  the  barn.  The  elder  •  McCormick  had 
already  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  principle  of  his  con- 
trivance was  too  defective  to  apply  to  a  crop  of  grain  standing 
in  a  field. 

But  Cyrus  had  once  or  twice  perfected  his  father's  ideas,  and 
he  now  resolved  to  see  what  he  could  do  with  that  reaper.  The 
old  machine  was  dragged  from  the  obscurity  of  its  fifteen  years' 
retirement  and  Cyrus,  at  the  ambitious  age  of  twenty-one,  looked 
it  over. 

The  fundamental  defect  in  the  whole  arrangement,  concluded 
young  McCormick,  was  that  it  attacked  a  crop  of  grain  with  the 
weight  of  its  sheer  mass.  In  front  of  the  frame  work  ran  a 
series  of  stationary  hooks.  Over  and  against  the  heads  of  these 
hooks  spun  an  equal  number  of  perpendicular  cylinders.  Pins, 
stuck  around  the  edge  of  the  cylinders,  forced  the  stalks  of  grain 
across  the  hooks  and  on  to  the  stubble  side  of  the  machine,  where 
they  dropped  in  a  continuous  swathe.  Theoretically,  the  idea 
was  beautiful,  but  in  practice  there  were  too  many  separations 
of  the  grain.     The  hooks  and  the  pins  and  the  cylinders  refused 


WONDER-WORKING    INVENTIONS  299 

to  co-operate  against  a  tangled  crop  of  grain  and  persistently 
failed  to  deliver  the  swathe  at  the  stubble  side.  Cyrus  tried  and 
tried,  to  the  edification  of  grinning  rustics,  to  effect  the  con- 
tinuous swathe,  but  he  had  always  to  retire  baffled  to  the  barn, 
dragging  behind  him  a  clogged  mass  of  pins,  cylinders  and  hooks. 
"  Si ''  became  the  butt  of  wags  in  those  parts. 

But  on  a  beautiful  harvest  day  there  occurred  in  a  field  of 
oats  an  incident  of  that  picturesque  kind  to  which  biographers 
are  indebted  for  their  fine  effects.  Cyrus  had  announced  that 
he  meant  to  harvest  that  particular  crop  and  that  he  would  do 
it  with  the  machine,  now  born  anew.  There  were  no  great 
crowds  of  spectators,  but  imagination  paints  a  picture  of  those 
skeptic  wags,  not  impossibly  gathering  to  see  the  fun.  "  Si " 
appeared  with  his  reaper,  metamorphosed  beyond  recognition, 
and  the  rustic  audience  hailed  him  with  a  laugh.  But  merri- 
ment became  wonder  when  the  reaper  went  through  the  field  and 
harvested  acre  after  acre  at  high  speed.  Young  McCormick  had 
triumphed  and  the  performance  of  that  day  was  destined  to  be 
re-enacted  in  England,  France,  nearly  all  the  civilized  countries 
in  the  world,  in  the  presence  of  men  who  had  come  to  scoff  and 
who  went  away  converted. 

Long  study  of  the  workings  of  his  father's  machine  had  con- 
vinced young  McCormick  that  ripe  grain,  standing  in  the  field 
under  ordinary  conditions,  must  only  be  attacked  in  bulk.  It 
was  too  tangled  a  mass  for  the  various  separations  of  his  father's 
cutting  apparatus.  It  had  occurred  to  the  son  that  the  cutting 
and  the  arrangement  of  the  grain  were  best  to  be  effected  by  the 
appropriate  movements  of  an  edged  instrument.  In  moving 
against  a  crop  to  be  harvested  by  a  machine,  the  right  movement, 
in  addition  to  the  forward  one  of  the  reaper  itself,  should  be  af- 
forded laterally  by  means  of  a  crank  attached  to  the  end  of  a 
"reciprocating  blade."  i^ll  reaping  machines  have  since  been 
based  upon  this  McCormick  principle. 

With  a  few  improvements  suggested  by  experience,  the  young 
man  next  attacked  a  field  of  wheat  and  harvested  it.  The  fol- 
lowing four  or  five  years  were  spent  in  further  study  of  the  in- 
vention, for  Cyrus  McCormick  had  found  that  unskilled  hands 
could  not  equal  the  results  he  himself  attained.  He  had  made 
up  his  mind  not  to  rush  into  the  market  too  soon.  He  took  out 
I'is  first  patent  in  1834,  three  years  after  he  had  cut  his  first  acre 


300  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

of  oats.  He  resolved,  too,  that  he  would  be  his  own  manufac- 
turer, and  when  the  time  seemed  ripe,  he  enlisted  the  services 
of  his  brothers  as  agents  and  managers,  finally  giving  them  an 
interest  in  his  business.     It  became  a  very  large  business  soon. 

The  progress  of  the  McCormick  reaper  around  the  world  has 
been  triumphant.  It  crossed  the  prairies  and  left  great  com- 
munities to  mark  its  path.  Even  before  the  death  of  its  in- 
ventor in  1884  it  had  developed  to  the  point  where  it  cut  the 
grain,  piled  it  upon  a  receiving  platform,  conveyed  it  through 
the  simplest  of  mechanism  to  a  pair  of  arms  which  then  gathered 
the  stalks  into  bundles,  bound  them  neatly  and  deposited  them 
all  in  regular  order  in  the  field.  Yet  these  several  operations 
involved  only  the  fundamental  characteristics  of  the  machine 
with  which  young  McCormick  had  harvested  his  first  field  of 
oats.  They  were  the  divider,  which  parted  that  portion  of  the 
grain  to  be  operated  upon  from  the  rest  of  the  standing  crop, 
the  reel  which  drew  the  grain  within  the  orbit  of  the  blade,  and 
the  blade  whose  tremulous  motion  effected  the  cutting  itself. 
Such  is  the  combination  of  ingenuities  which  has  made  Argen- 
tina one  of  the  granaries  of  the  human  race  and  which  in  a  cou- 
ple of  generations,  according  to  the  most  eminent  of  living  or- 
ganizers of  agriculture,  will  convert  the  uninhabited  wastes  of 
Canada  into  a  nation  of  30,000,000  people.  It  has  become  a 
mighty  factor  in  the  problem  of  the  far  east,  and  upon  it  Euro- 
pean and  Japanese  statesmen  have  based  their  hope  of  seeing 
Manchuria  and  Siberia  independent  of  the  outside  world,  for 
they  will  constitute  with  its  aid  a  world  of  their  own.  "  No 
general  or  consul,  drawn  in  a  chariot  through  the  streets  of 
Rome  by  order  of  the  Senate,^^  declared  William  H.  Seward, 
"  ever  conferred  upon  mankind  benefits  so  great  as  he  who  thus 
vindicated  the  genius  of  our  country.'^ 

HOE  SAVES  THE  GREAT  DAILY  FROM  EXTINCTION'. 

Polk  was  president  of  the  United  States  when  the  population 
of  this  country  stunned  our  grandfathers  by  attaining  the  prodig- 
ious total  of  20,000,000.  At  that  time  the  city  of  New  York 
was  inhabited  by  no  less  than  358,000  people,  and  the  more  reck- 
less of  the  local  prophets  ventured  to  affirm  that  the  metropolis 
would  yet  have  a  population  of  a  roimd  million,  almost.     To 


WONDER-WORKING    INVENTIONS  301 

one  New  Yorker  of  the  period  these  statistics  were  a  source  of 
great  vexation.  The  name  of  this  man  was  James  Gordon  Ben- 
nett. He  had  founded  the  Herald  only  eleven  years  before  and 
the  newspaper  had  bounded  from  success  to  success.  It  had 
risen  from  the  cellar  where  its  founder  long  sat  behind  a  plank 
resting  upon  a  pair  of  barrels  and  was  now  disseminating  news 
with  a  thoroughness  and  an  enterprise  that  promised  to  elevate  it 
into  a  national  institution. 

Bennett^s  wonderful  career  had  been  one  long  conquest  of  ob- 
stacles. It  cost  him  a  pang,  at  last,  when  it  slowly  dawned  upon 
his  reluctant  mind  that  the  final  obstacle  of  all  was  baffling  even 
the  inexhaustible  fertility  of  his  resource.  He  could  not,  in  the 
few  hours  available  for  the  task,  print  enough  copies  of  his  news- 
paper to  command  the  immense  circulation  in  sight.  His  press 
room  was  equipped  with  Hoe's  "  double  cylinders,''  which  turned 
out  some  eight  or  ten  thousand  Heralds  an  hour,  but  Bennett's 
ambition  outran  that  speed  entirely.  The  process  of  stereotyp- 
ing, by  which  all  the  letters  making  up  a  single  page  of  type  are 
cast  in  one  sheet  of  metal  from  a  mould,  was  not  yet  sufficiently 
advanced  to  obviate  his  difficulty.  But  stereotype  plates,  if 
used,  would  have  necessitated  a  cumbrous  duplication  of  double 
cylinders  in  the  press  room  without  proving  more  than  a  partial 
remedy  of  the  difficulty.  Mr.  Bennett's  great  newspaper  was 
in  the  position  of  a  bull  tied  to  a  stake,  and  the  only  consolation 
was  that  all  the  Herald's  rivals  were  likewise  nearing  the  end 
of  their  respective  tethers. 

Eichard  March  Hoe,  who  supplied  the  Herald  and  its  contem- 
poraries with  their  presses,  was  keenly  alive  to  the  emergency, 
and  ever3^thing  indicates  that  he  was  the  only  man  in  a  position 
to  come  to  the  rescue.  Hoe's  life  had  been  spent  in  the  manu- 
facture of  huge  printing  presses.  His  father  had  founded  a 
celebrated  firm  of  press  makers  in  England,  and  the  son,  who 
was  born  in  New  York  in  1812,  had  made  himself  a  captain  of 
industry  by  inventing  the  "double  cylinder,"  long  the  marvel  of 
the  printer's  art.  But  circulations  were  running  away  from  this 
invention  and  no  substitute  was  even  in  sight. 

So,  while  the  Herald  and  its  contemporaries  were  driven  to 
risk  their  reputations  as  newspapers  by  going  to  press  earlier 
and  earlier,  Mr.  Hoe  proceeded  to  experiment.,  He  expended 
large  sums  of  money  during  four  disappointing  years  and  was  at 


302  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

last  forced  to  tell  the  anxious  owners  of  great  dailies  that  his 
efforts  had  gone  for  nothing.  But  he  who  sets  out  on  a  quest 
of  success  is  rarely  welcome  when  he  comes  home  with  an  ex- 
planation of  failure,  be  that  explanation  ever  so  good.  He  saw 
that  he  had  made  a  mistake  and  at  once  began  anew. 

The  solution  of  the  problem  dawned  suddenly  upon  his  mind 
in  a  moment  of  mental  exhaustion,  when  he  was  about  to  throw 
himself  upon  his  bed  after  many  hours  spent  in  worrying  over 
models.  The  type  must  be  secured  on  the  surface  of  a  cylin- 
der. Before  twelve  months  had  passed,  Hoe  presses  of  a  new 
design,  equipped  with  from  five  to  ten  cylinders,  were  rushing 
sheets  of  paper  past  revolving  "  forms  ^^  at  the  furious  rate  of 
fifteen  thousand  copies  an  hour.  Twenty-five  years^  further 
study  and  experiment  had  brought  the  capacity  of  the  Hoe  to 
over  twenty-five  thousand  copies  of  a  newspaper  per  hour. 

Swelling  circulations  burst  even  these  limits,  but  it  is  only 
the  first  step  that  costs  and  the  next  one  involved  less  of  a  crisis. 
One  great  roll  of  paper  replaced  the  separate  sheets,  and  stereo- 
typing had  by  this  time  made  it  easy  to  duplicate  forms  on  as 
many  other  presses  as  were  required.  The  Hoe  press  of  the 
twentieth  century  pastes,  folds  and  counts  the  largest  of  daily 
circulations  with  a  speed  that  enables  the  hour  of  going  to  press 
to  be  postponed  until  well  into  the  morning. 

How  direct  is  the  connection  between  the  influence  of  a 
^'  great  '^  daily  and  the  size  of  its  circulation  may  be  open  to  dis- 
pute. But  no  one  will  deny  that  the  triumphs  of  journalism  in 
our  day  would  be  unthinkable  in  the  absence  of  such  a  press  as 
Hoe  evolved.  The  reporter  would  be  shorn  of  nine-tenths  of  his 
importance.  News  would  be  a  more  perishable  commodity  than 
ripe  berries.  The  power  of  the  press,  instead  of  being  concen- 
trated, would  be  diffused,  and  diffusion  of  power  means  loss  of 
energy.  Upon  the  foundation  of  Hoe's  invention  was  reared 
the  superstructure  of  publicity,  and  publicity,  declared  Glad- 
stone, will  be  to  the  twentieth  century  what  revolution  was  to 
the  eighteenth. 

THE  TYPESETTING   MACHIN-E  AND  THE  MONOPOLY  OF  HIGHER 

EDUCATION. 

In  studying  the  lives  of  men  who,  like  Lincoln,  raised  them- 
selves from  the  humblest  obscurity  to  positions  of  commanding 


WONDER-WORKING    INVENTIONS  308 

authority,  we  are  struck,  first  of  all,  by  the  surprisingly  small 
number  of  books  from  which  they  extracted  an  education.  That 
an  ambitious  youth,  blessed  with  ability  and  character,  should 
walk  ten  miles  or  labor  many  weeks  to  possess  a  single  volume 
from  which  to  derive  his  equipment  for  the  battle  of  life  need 
occasion  no  surprise  to  those  familiar  with  the  careers- of  Ben- 
jamin Franklin,  Andrew  Carnegie  and  a  host  of  others.  The 
noteworthy  circumstance  is  not  the  privations  they  endured  to 
come  to  their  books  but  that  they  found  so  very  few  sufficient. 
The  twentieth  century  youth,  deprived  of  facilities  for  attending 
a  great  university,  cannot  hope  to  make  good  the  deficiency  by 
poring  over  Plutarch's  Lives,  an  old  volume  of  Shakespeare  and 
an  elementary  history  of  the  United  States.  When  Lincoln  was 
a  lad,  electrical  science  was  little  better  than  a  superstition,  tech- 
nical education  did  .not  make  a  thousand  demands  upon  the  lore 
and  training  of  skilled  proficients,  there  were  no  great  trunk 
lines  of  railway,  no  network  of  telegraphs,  no  great  captains  of 
industry  clamoring  in  the  market  place  for  the  services  of  edu- 
cated specialists.  When  the  nineteenth  century  was  young,  a 
half  dozen  books  on  a  shelf  in  the  corner  comprised  a  more  am- 
bitious library  than  many  substantial  men  felt  justified  in  af- 
fording themselves. 

We  have  changed  all  that,  as  the  French  say.  The  Franklins 
and  the  Lincolns  of  the  future  are  not  to-day  walking  miles  in 
the  rain  to  borrow  an  old  tome.  They  are  fitting  themselves  for 
the  battle  of  life  with  whole  sets  of  books,  dealing  with  subjects 
of  which  the  best  educated  men  a  century  ago  had  little,  if  any, 
idea.  The  field  of  knowledge  has  expanded  beyond  the  horizon 
of  the  past,  and  even  a  cursory  survey  of  it  has  become  impos- 
sible without  a  library  at  home.  Lincoln^s  allowance  of  three 
books  spells  failure  in  life  to  his  contemporary  emulator,  who 
must  have  definite  ideas  about  electricity,  about  history,  about 
chemistry,  about  literature,  about  railroads,  about  the  organiza- 
tion of  modern  industry,  unless,  indeed,  he  is  to  go  into  the 
world  without  prospect  of  a  career.  Those  are  the  forms  of 
knowledge  which  at  present  connect  the  individual  with  the  gen- 
eral effort  of  mankind,  and  without  which  he  is  not  really  a 
member  of  civilization's  family  at  all.  The  public  library  must 
remain  an  unworked  mine  to  one  who  has  never  learned,  from 
the  study  of  a  library  of  his  own,  to  exploit  its  infinite  riches. 


304  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

Now,  the  distribution  of  a  set  of  books  among  a  given  number 
of  homes  involves  a  serious  mechanical  problem  at  the  outset. 
The  quantity  of  type  to  be  set  restricts  the  size  of  the  projected 
library  within  limits  of  commercial  possibility.  On  the  other 
hand,  a  set  of  books  adequately  covering  any  field  of  knowledge, 
necessarily  comprises  many  volumes.  The  difficulty  of  recon- 
ciling such  conflicting  factors  was  at  first  thought  to  have  been 
removed  by  the  typesetting  machine.  Such  great  educational 
movements  as  that  of  university  extension  were  indeed,  for  a 
time,  immensely  furthered.  But  obstacles  presented  themselves. 
The  mechanical  typesetter  was  a  complex  aflair.  Its  tendency 
to  break  down  at  critical  moments  enhanced  the  original  serious 
cost  of  its  introduction.  The  face  of  the  type  was  liable  to  in- 
jury by  the  clumsiness  of  the  unskilled.  The  speed  of  its  opera- 
tion, wherein  its  grand  merit  consisted,  was  often  neutralized  by 
the  time  spent  in  correcting  errors.  Finally,  the  invention  did 
not  seem  to  lend  itself  to  the  attainment  of  the  fine  results  re- 
quired in  book  work.  For  a  long  time  those  who  conceded  the 
practicability  of  the  typesetting  machine  denied  that  it  had 
value  outside  of  a  newspaper  office. 

Among  those  who  refused  to  be  daunted  by  all  these  difficul- 
ties was  a  young  mechanic  of  Swiss  origin  named  Ottmar  Mer- 
genthaler.  He  had  come  to  this  country  when  a  mere  lad  and 
when  his  school  days  were  over  he  began  the  battle  of  life  by 
acquiring  a  knowledge  of  machinery.  His  inventiveness,  while 
of  an  original  yet  practical  kind,  never  brought  him  large  sums 
of  money  until  accident  directed  his  attention  to  the  subject  of 
typesetting  machines.  He  was  once  asked,  it  seems,  to  perfect 
a  typecasting  contrivance  and  much  of  his  time  in  the  year  1875 
—  he  was  then  in  Baltimore  —  was  thus  taken  up.  His  experi- 
ments led  him  to  the  idea  of  casting  type  not  piece  by  piece  but 
in  a  series,  the  arrangement  of  the  letters  to  be  effected  by  the 
operation  of  a  key-board.  Such  was  the  germ  of  the  paradoxical 
typesetting  machine  which  does  not  set  type. 

Eleven  years  were  to  elapse  before  any  newspaper  proprietor 
became  bold  enough  to  introduce  a  Mergenthaler  machine  into 
his  composing  room.  Experience  had  disgusted  printers  with 
every  such  thing.  But  the  victory  of  the  Mergenthaler  Lino- 
type in  1886  was  made  good  by  its  subsequent  conquest  of  nearly 
all  the  great  newspaper  offices  in  this  country,  the  Dominion 


WONDER-WORKING    INVENTIONS  305 

and  Great  Britain.  This  success  is  not  surprising.  The  ma- 
chine makes  strips  of  any  practical  width,  each  strip  being  as 
high  as  a  piece  of  type,  while  the  face  of  the  strip  bears  the  let- 
tering which  is  to  be  reproduced  in  print.  The  invention  is 
operated  through  a  keyboard  in  front  of  which  the  operator  takes 
l:is  seat.  A  touch  of  a  key  upon  a  "matrix"  sends  it  to  its  ap- 
pointed place,  there  to  remain  until  joined  by  others.  Each  mat- 
rix, of  course,  corresponds  to  an  appropriate  letter  of  the  alpha- 
bet, or  to  a  figure,  a  character,  anything.  The  matrix  letters  once 
assembled  like  a  file  of  soldiers,  and  the  proper  width  of  the  line 
assured  by  the  introduction  of  wedge-shaped  spaces  between  the 
words,  all  are  transferred  to  a  mould.  Here  hot  metal  dis- 
charges itself  over  them  and  a  line  of  type  results.  The  matrices 
are  enabled  to  find  their  way  home  by  means  of  their  teeth, 
which  vary  indefinitely  to  keep  them  from  losing  their  course. 

Simple  enough  in  principle,  this  contrivance  had  to  undergo 
considerable  improvement  before  it  produced  a  page  sufiiciently 
literary  in  appearance  to  adorn  a  book.  The  solution  of  that 
part  of  the  problem  dates  from  1891,  with  a  superior  adjustment 
of  the  matrix  to  the  purpose  of  the  electrotyper  and  the  cutting 
of  a  letter  so  clear  and  so  beautiful  that  an  encyclopedia  in  many 
volumes  turned  out  by  the  Mergenthaler  is  one  of  the  most  beau- 
tifully printed  sets  of  .books  in  existence.  A  typesetting  ma- 
chine is  now  part  of  the  equipment  in  the  book  room  of  every 
great  printing  establishment. 

There  are  likewise  valuable  inventions  which  do  the  work  of 
composition  by  means  of  actual  type.  Each  letter  is  a  separate 
piece  of  metal  in  the  old  fashioned  way,  the  setting  being  effected 
by  the  adjustment  of  nicks  to  a  series  of  teeth.  Such  machines 
must  distribute  the  type  when  its  purpose  is  served.  The  Mer- 
genthaler machine,  of  course,  necessitates  no  distribution,  as  it 
practically  casts  a  font  anew  at  every  step.  But  each  variety  of 
machine  has  merits  of  its  own  and  perhaps  it  is  premature  to 
pick  the  survivor  of  them  all. 

THE  REORGANIZATION"  OF  INDUSTRY  BY  THE  TYPEV^RITER. 

Were  the  writing  machine  obliterated  from  the  business  life 
of  this  country,  every  great  office  building  in  New  York  and 
Chicago  would  have  to  be  torn  down.     Multitudes  of  women. 


306  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

graduated  from  the  pencil  and  the  pad  to  positions  of  executive 
responsibility  or  of  complete  independence  as  heads  of  business 
enterprises  owned  by  themselves,  would  be  reduced  to  practical 
helplessness.  The  dominant  characteristic  of  American  life,  the 
freedom  and  independence  of  woman,  might  not  survive  the 
closing  of  the  avenue  to  human  achievement  afforded  by  this 
epoch-making  and  revolutionary  creation. 

The  typewriting  machine  was  no  spoiled  child  of  fortune. 
It  struggled  desperately  for  existence  against  the  indifference 
and  misunderstanding  of  the  world.  It  rose  feebly  into  being 
from  the  inventive  brain  of  an  Englishman  who  thought  of  it 
two  hundred  years  ago  only  to  let  it  die  the  death  of  discourage- 
ment. It  revived  in  another  hundred  years  or  more  in  France 
and  perished.  Again  and  yet  again  machines  that  did  the  work 
of  the  pen  appeared  and  disappeared  as  mysteriously  and  as  ob- 
scurely as  the  ghost  of  Hamlet's  father.  France,  England  and 
the  United  States  were  haunted  by  these  apparitions,  vague  and 
unsubstantial,  never  believed  in  by  men  of  common  sense  and 
unvisionary  minds.     , 

No  wonder,  therefore,  that  when  Carlos  Glidden,  in  the  year 
1866,  remarked  to  his  friend  Latham  Sholes:  "Why  can  not 
a  machine  be  made  that  will  write  letters  and  words "  ?  he 
thought  he  was  suggesting  a  totally  original  idea.  Sholes  and 
his  friend  Glidden  belonged  to  that  class  to  which  this  republic 
owes  as  much  as  it  owes  to  the  framers  of  the  constitution.  They 
were  inventors.  Sholes  was  trying  to  make  a  machine  that 
would  page  books,  that  is,  number  the  leaves  in  regular  order. 
On  Glidden's  mind  was  a  mechanical  furrower  of  the  soil  which, 
he  fondly  hoped,  would  transform  the  plow  into  a  quaint  relic  of 
the  past.  They  spent  much  time  in  each  other's  society,  and 
mutual  criticism  of  each  other's  ideas  led  to  a  shock  of  mental 
contact  which  evoked  the  required  inventive  spark.  Glidden 
put  the  mechanical  spader  behind  him  and  Sholes'  enthusiasm 
for  the  paging  of  books  was  diverted  into  a  wider  field  of  en- 
deavor. 

The  two  friends  were  immensely  encouraged  by  the  result  of 
their  first  efforts.  It  is  true,  their  first  writing  machine  was 
noisier  than  a  coffee  mill,  it  held  paper  so  securely  that  its  sub- 
sequent extraction  necessitated  the  display  of  a  high  order  of 
expert  talent,  and  the  business  correspondence  of  a  single  morn- 


WONDER-WORKING  INVENTIONS  307 

ing  could  be  turned  out  —  in  capital  letters  only  —  during  a 
period  of  some  three  months.  On  the  other  hand,  the  machine 
did  write.  The  pivoted  types  set  in  a  circle  delivered  terrible 
blows,  while  spaces  between  words  were  not  invariably  absent. 
It  was  a  little  embarrassing,  when  the  end  of  a  line  was  reached, 
to  be  obliged  to  wait  a  day  or  two  while  Messrs.  Sholes  and  Glid- 
den,  aided  by  Mr.  Samuel  W.  Soule,  who  had  been  let  into  this 
good  thing,  struggled  manfully  to  induce  the  mechanism  to  start 
a  fresh  line.  But  difficulties  were  made  to  be  overcome,  as  we 
all  know,  and  Mr.  Soule  speedily  revealed  himself  as  the  emer- 
gency man  of  this  enterprising  trio.  Mr.  Sholes  was  made  re- 
sponsible for  the  spacing,  and  he  faced  that  responsibility  — 
which  turned  out  to  be  heavy  —  like  a  hero.  Mr.  Soule  had  to 
see  that  whenever  a  key  was  struck  a  corresponding  type-bar 
responded  to  the  signal,  and  many  a  distracted  hour  did  he  live 
through  as  a  result.  Mr.  Glidden  turned  out  to  be  a  brilliant 
theorist  in  all  that  related  to  the  invention,  but  he  was  not  other- 
wise practical.  As  the  original  suggester  of  the  whole  idea,  he 
was  deputed  to  watch  the  proceedings  of  his  associates  and  en- 
courage them  with  criticism. 

These  three  friends  felt  a  natural  pride  in  the  result  of  their 
efforts  when  they  were  able  to  send  typewritten  letters  to  their 
friends.  So  striking  a  novelty  never  failed  to  achieve  effects. 
One  was  the  admission  into  the  enterprise  of  Mr.  James  Dens- 
more,  of  Meadville,  Pa.,  who  was  so  delighted  with  the  idea  that 
he  put  money  into  it  before  he  had  even  seen  the  invention. 
Mr.  Densmore  had  a  far-seeing  head  on  his  shoulders  and  he 
may  be  said  to  have  rescued  the  typewriter  from  a  fresh  ob- 
livion, for  Soule  and  Glidden  abandoned  the  undertaking.  That 
left  Sholes  to  perfect  the  machine  as  far  as  possible,  while  Dens- 
more, as  a  practical  man  of  business,  pushed  the  idea. 

But  with  all  his  enterprise,  Mr.  Densmore  could  not  get  the 
machine  to  market  for  years.  Enlisting,  at  last,  the  eloquent 
persuasiveness  of  Mr.  G.  W.  N.  Yost,  he  approached  the  great 
arms  manufacturing  house  of  Eemington.  This  was  in  1873. 
The  Eemingtons  long  had  their  doubts  but  their  instincts  were 
too  enterprising  to  let  slip  what  had  some  of  the  aspects  of  a 
golden  opportunity.  Their  vast  factory  and  their  highly  skilled 
workmen  were  placed  at  the  disposal  of  Mr.  Densmore  and  his 
associates.     The  Eemington  Typewriter,  under  these  auspices. 


308  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

was  sent  out  into  the  world  in  1874.  The  primitive  type  of 
machine  resembled  its  offspring  of  to-day  as  essentially  as  a 
pterodactyl  resembles  its  descendant,  the  bat. 

Not  less  marvelous  than  the  ingenuity  of  this  machine,  with 
its  countless  and  exquisite  improvements,  is  the  thoroughness 
with  which  it  has  reorganized  the  industrial  life  of  great  na- 
tions. Phonography,  with  its  aid,  has  become  as  wide  an  avenue 
to  eminence  as  the  law  itself,  for  the  typewriter  has  made  am- 
bitious young  men  the  pupils  and  the  successors  of  powerful 
statesmen.  It  has  lifted  the  women  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race 
into  a  realm  of  opportunity  so  wide  as  to  affect  the  destiny  of 
tlieir  sex.  The  position  of  woman  can  never  be  what  it  was  be- 
fore the  appearance  of  the  typewriter,  which,  as  can  be  shown  by 
statistics,  has  raised  the  eligible  marriage  age  of  the  young  girl 
in  England  and  the  United  States  fully  five  years.  The  twen- 
tieth century  business  office  is  the  creation  of  this  machine.  So 
unobtrusively  and  so  insensibly  has  it  attained  its  present  com- 
manding importance  that  the  financial  magnate,  directing  from 
his  headquarters  operations  involving  millions  and  industrial 
armies  as  numerous  as  Caesar's  legions,  has  yet  to  appreciate  the 
potency  of  the  instrument  of  his  dictation.  As  artillery  is 
the  queen  of  battle,  the  typewriter  is  the  queen  of  business. 

So  prodigious  a  success  invited  emulation  and  the  Eemington 
machine,  now  controlled  by  the  incorporated  interests  of  Messrs. 
Wyckoff,  Seamans,  Benedict  and  their  associates,  enjoys  no 
monopoly  of  the  field.  Many  writing  machines  compete  for 
favor  wherever  business  is  transacted.  The  home  itself  has  been 
entered,  and  it  may  be  that  this  invention  will  become  in  time 
as  familiar  in  the  household  as  is  the  sewing  machine  itself. 


THE  STEAM  TURBINE  309 


THE  STEAM  TURBINE.* 

By  ARTHUR  WARREN. 

IT  is  probable  that  the  last  great  reciprocating  engine-driven 
power  plant  has  been  ordered.  Hereafter,  the  steam  turbine 
will  be  the  prime  mover  of  the  new  installations. 

The  layman  is  apt  to  think  that  the  turbine  may  possibly  be- 
come the  steam-engine  of  the  future.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
turbine  is  emphatically  the  engine  of  the  present  time.  "  It  is 
not  so  young  as  it  looks,"  said  a  demonstrator,  addressing  a  meet- 
ing of  railroad  men  a  little  while  ago.  Its  principles  are  as  old 
as  the  hills,  but  modern  methods  of  manufacture  have  only  now 
made  its  mechanical  construction  and  its  commercial  application 
thoroughly  practicable. 

Most  new  things  in  mechanics  come  when  we  are  ready  for 
them.  If  the  steam  turbine  had  been  perfected  one  hundred 
years  ago,  or  fifty  years  ago,  or  twenty-five  years  ago,  we  would 
not  have  been  ready  for  it.  If  we  had  had  the  means  to  build  it, 
we  would  not  have  had  the  means  to  apply  it  in  general  use. 
Electricity  has  given  the  means  for  its  widest  application  —  the 
commercial  development  of  electric  generating  devices.  The 
electrical  necessities  of  the  hour  have  forced  ahead  the  develop- 
ment of  the  steam  turbine.  High-powered  electrical  generators 
had  become  so  huge  that  they  had  almost  reached  the  limits  of 
practical  construction  and  the  limits  of  practical  space.  And 
the  demand  is  for  higher  powers  still.  Speed  and  |)ower  here  are 
closely  related.  The  big  generators  were  driven  as  fast  as  the 
monster  reciprocating  engines  could  drive  them.  When  this 
point  had  been  reached,  the  gradually  developed  turbine  was 
ready.  With  a  turbine  revolving  at  seven  hundred  and  fifty  revo- 
lutions per  minute,  it  is  possible  to  obtain  from  a  small  electrical 
generator  an  amount  of  electrical  energy  heretofore  given  only 
by  a  machine  many  times  its  size. 

*  From  the  American  Monthly  Review  of  Reviews,    for  .Tune,  1904. 


310  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

Behind  all  other  forms  of  steam-engine  practice  lies  the  experi- 
ence of  a  hundred  years.  Behind  the  steam  turbine  is  the  prac- 
tical experience  of  twenty  years.  It  is  in  its  commercial  impor- 
tance that  the  steam  turbine  is  new,  and  this  importance  dates 
from  yesterday ;  that  is  to  say,  within  half  a  dozen  years. 

Laymen  are  averse  to  technicalities,  and  this  is  an  article  for 
lay  readers.  But  there  are  some  figures  that  must  be  given,  and 
we  will  begin  with  these :  Energy  to  the  extent  of  800,000  horse- 
power is  now  daily  produced  by  steam  turbines  in  actual  opera- 
tion in  various  parts  of  the  world,  and  turbines  aggregating  half 
as  much  more  in  horse-power  are  already  contracted  for.  In  the 
United  States  alone,  one  engineering  company  has  turbines  to  the 
extent  of  250,000  horse-power  under  order,  and  another  has 
almost  as  much,  with  50,000  horse-power  in  daily  operation. 
Each  of  these  concerns  builds  a  different  type,  and  one  company, 
in  Milwaukee,  builds  units  as  large  as  10,000  horse-power.  The 
largest  steam  turbines  yet  placed  under  operation  are  of  about 
6,500  horse-power  each.  But  we  are  only  at  the  beginning.  The 
greatest  engine  builders  are  engaging  in  turbine  construction. 
The  signs  are  everywhere  that  the  day  of  the  reciprocating  engine 
is  passing. 

What,  then,  asks  the  layman,  is  this  new  contrivance  ?  Stripped 
of  verbiage,  it  is  a  spindle,  or  rotor,  fitted  with  graduated  rings 
of  projecting  blades,  which,  under  the  impact  of  steam,  cause  the 
spindle  to  revolve  within  a  close-fitting  cylinder,  or  stator. 

Between  this  seemingly  simple  proposition  and  the  actual  per- 
formance of  work  of  high  efficiency  lies  any  amount  of  ingenious 
theory  and  engineering  skill  and  long  experiment.  Any  one  can 
force  steam  into  a  cylinder  and  make  a  paddle  wheel  revolve, 
but  to  make  the  wheel  deliver  constant  power  under  varying  con- 
ditions and  at  a  minimum  of  cost  is  a  problem  upon  which  many 
great  brains  in  the  engineering  world  were  engaged  before  it  was 
solved. 

Let  us  borrow  from  the  engineers,  for  a  moment,  a  few  phrases 
which  will  give  a  clear  idea  of  what  is  done. 

A  cubic  foot  of  water  under  100  pounds  initial  pressure,  and 
discharging  into  a  28-inch  vacuum,  would  attain  a  theoretical 
velocity  of  130.2  feet  a  second,  and  would  exert  16,900  foot 
pounds  of  energy.  A  .cubic  foot  of  steam  under  like  conditions 
would  attain  a  theoretical  velocity  of  3,860  feet  a  second,  and 


THE  STEAM  TURBINE  311 

would  exert  59^900  foot-pounds  of  energy.  But  such  steam 
velocity  would  require  in  a  turbine  an  ideal  peripheral  speed  of 
2,000  feet  a  second  in  order  to  utilize  the  power.  This  would 
mean  38,100  turns  a  minute  for  a  wheel  one  foot  in  diameter. 
But  this  speed  is  far  too  great  for  actual  practice.  The  velocity 
of  the  steam  must  be  reduced  as  it  passes  through  the  turbine. 
This  reduction  of  velocity  also  deprives  the  steam  of  all  power 
of  erosion.    Thus,  the  parts  are  not  scored  or  worn. 

Steam  enters  the  turbine  through  nozzles  or  stationary  guide 
blades  fixed  to  the  inner  surface  of  the  cylinder,  or  stator.  This 
steam  is  directed  upon  the  spindle,  or  rotor.  The  impact  upon 
the  spindle  blades,  combined  with  the  reaction  due  to  the  differ- 
ence in  pressure  on  either  side  of  the  ring  blades,  causes  the 
spindle  to  revolve.  Throughout  the  turbine  these  actions  are 
repeated,  the  pressure  of  the  steam  increasing  and  decreasing  as 
it  passes  through  the  alternating  rings  of  blades,  gradually  low- 
ering to  that  of  the  vacuum.  This  operation  m^ay  be  continuous, 
as  in  the  Parsons  turbine,  or  divided  into  stages,  as  in  the  Curtis. 
The  low  steam  velocity  not  only  protects  the  blades  from  wear, 
but  the  steam  thrust  on  each  blade  of  a  Parsons  turbine  is  equal 
to  only  about  one  ounce  avoirdupois. 

The  Hon.  Charles  A.  Parsons,  a  son  of  Lord  Eosse  of  telescope 
fame,  introduced  the  first  practicable  steam  turbine  in  1884.  It 
had  a  10-horse-power  capacity,  and  was  not  an  economical  ma- 
chine, but  it  gave  a  successful  demonstration  of  the  principle. 
At  a  pressure  of  92  pounds  of  steam,  non-condensing,  it  ran  at 
18,000  revolutions  a  minute,  and  used  35  pounds  of  steam  per 
horse-pov\^er  per  hour. 

Four  years  later,  Mr.  Parsons  exhibited  an  improved  turbine 
of  50  horse-povv^er,  making  7,000  turns  a  minute.  Soon  after- 
ward he  had  a  200-horse-power  turbine  giving  4,000  turns  a 
minute,  and  showing  in  steam  consumption  results  that  com- 
pared favorably  with  good  piston  engines.  Now  turbines  of  the 
Parsons  type  work  at  from  500  to  3,600  revolutions  a  minute, 
and  they  equal  the  best  piston  engines  in  steam  economy.  But 
the  attention  of  the  world  was  not  much  drawn  to  the  new 
departure  until  Mr.  Parsons  built  his  little  steamer  Turbinia,  and 
ran  it  at  341/2  knots  an  hour.  Then  the  world  wondered.  That 
was  in  1897. 

The  Parsons  type  of  turbine  is  the  best  known  at  present,  be- 


312  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

cause  it  has  been  long  enough  before  the  engineering  world  to 
have  secured  a  wide  introduction  in  many  countries.  It  is  a 
horizontal  turbine ;  that  is  to  say,  the  spindle,  or  rotor,  is  placed 
in  a  position  horizontal  to  its  bearings,  like  the  propeller  shaft  of 
a  steamship.  In  the  United  States,  a  turbine  of  the  Parsons 
type  has  been  built  by  the  Westinghouse  Machine  Company, 
of  Pittsburg,  who  have  made  some  improvements  in  its  construc- 
tion. 

A  rival  of  the  Parsons  turbine  is  the  Curtis,  the  inventor  being 
Mr.  C.  G.  Curtis,  of  New  York.  The  Curtis  steam  turbine  is 
built  by  the  General  Electric  Company,  of  Schenectady,  N.  Y. 
It  is  a  vertical  turbine.  A  third  type  is  the  De  Laval,  which 
is  made  by  the  De  Laval  Steam  Turbine. Company,  of  New  York, 
and  by  associated  companies  of  Europe.  This  is  a  horizontal 
turbine,  but  is  very  different  in  construction  from  the  Parsons  or 
the  Curtis.  It  is  not  built  in  large  units  like  either  of  the  others, 
and  is  seldom  constructed  in  sizes  above  300  horse-power.  It  is 
a  very  successful  device,  many  hundreds  of  the  De  Laval  type 
being  used  in  the  United  States,  as  well  as  in  European  coun- 
tries. The  De  Laval  people  have  applied  the  principle  of  their 
turbines  to  cream  separators,  of  which  they  have  half  a  million  at 
work  in  the  United  States. 

These  three  are  the  turbines  best  known  at  this  moment  in 
this  country.  In  Europe,  the  Eiedler-Stumpf,  the  Eateau,  and 
the  Zoelly  turbines  have  attracted  considerable  attention.  All 
these  are  horizontal,  like  the  Parsons  type.  There  are  other 
types  coming  forward,  and  one  of  the  greatest  engineering  com- 
panies in  America,  the  Allis-Chalmers  Company,  long  famous  as 
builders  of  reciprocating  engines,  is  bringing  its  skill  and  ex- 
perience to  the  construction  of  steam  turbines,  as  well  as  to  elec- 
trical machinery.  The  steam  turbines  which  they  are  building 
are  on  lines  very  similar  to  the  Parsons  type,  but  embodying 
notable  improvements  which  are  the  outcom-C  of  experience  gained 
in  the  operation  of  turbines  of  various  types. 

This,  however,  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  the  merits  of  the 
respective  t3'pes  of  the  prime  mover  which  is  making  so  great 
a  change  in  engine-building,  literally,  and  in  more  ways  than 
one,  revolutionizing  that  practice  both  on  land  and  sea.  What 
the  layman  asks  is :  ^^  Why  is  the  steam  turbine  of  such  great 
importance  ?     What  are  its  advantages  ?  " 


THE  STEAM  TURBINE  313 

The  advantages  are  many.  To  begin  witli^  there  is  the  ex- 
treme simplicity  of  construction  and  operation.  Practically, 
there  is  nothing  to  wear  out.  In  piston  engines  there  are  many 
parts  that  wear.  Piston  engines  decrease  in  economy  with  age, 
but  in  a  turbine  there  is  no  such  deterioration.  The  only  rub- 
bing parts  are  the  bearings  at  each  end  of  the  spindle.  These 
bearings  run  in  oil,  and  after  years  of  constant  service  show 
literally  no  wear.  Four  100-horse-power  turbines  have  been 
operating  an  electric-light  plant  at  ^NTewcastle,  England,  since 
1889,  and  are  still  in  perfect  condition.  The  oldest  turbine- 
driven  plant  of  the  Parsons  type  in  the  United  States  is  in  Penn- 
sylvania. It  consists  of  four  turbines  of  about  600  horse-power 
each,  driving  generators  which  furnish  all  the  light  and  power  for 
a  large  manufactory.  These  turbines  have  been  in  operation 
four  years,  and  each  week  one  of  them  runs  from  twenty-two 
to  twenty-three  hours  a  day,  but  they  have  not  cost  a  cent  for 
repairs. 

Another  advantage  of  any  turbine  is  the  saving  in  space,  wheth- 
er aboard  ship  or  in  a  power-house.  One  type  of  the  horizontal 
turbine  occupies  not  over  40  per  cent,  of  the  floor  space  required 
by  a  horizontal  engine  of  the  same  power,  and  not  over  80  per 
cent,  of  the  floor  space  required  b}^  a  vertical  piston  engine  of  the 
same  power.  The  space  occupied  by  a  battleship  engine  of  the 
usual  stroke  and  piston  speed,  figuring  on  a  basis  of  efficiency  of 
0.85,  is  approximately  0.75  cubic  feet  per  indicated  horse-power. 
A  turbine  for  a  battleship  would  require  only  0.68  cubic  feet  per 
indicated  horse-power.  Every  one  can  understand  the  impor- 
tance of  saving  space  aboard  ship.  But  economy  of  space  is  no 
less  important  on  land,  especially  in  large  cities,  where  land  is 
costly  and  building  construction  expensive. 

A  railway  company  in  Ohio  was  able  to  find  room  for  three 
horizontal  steam  turbines  of  1,000-kilowatt  capacity  each,  with 
electric  generators,  switchboards,  and  transformers,  in  the  space 
formerly  occupied  by  one  1,000-kilowatt  piston  engine.  A  man- 
ufactory at  Akron,  Ohio,  had  not  room  enough  to  add  another 
large  piston  engine,  but  a  slight  rearrangement  of  its  existing 
engines  gave  space  for  the  addition  of  horizontal  steam  turbines 
which  doubled  the  power  of  the  plant. 

The  illustration  on  this  page  shows  in  the  most  effective  way 
a  comparison  of  the  floor,  foundation,  and  head  spaces  occupied 


314 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


by  one  of  the  newest  vertical  reciprocating  engines,  with  a  5,000- 
kilowatt  electric  generator  attached,  and  a  Parsons-type  turbine- 
generator  unit  of  the  same  capacity.  A  demonstration  of  this 
sort  is  worth  pages  of  argument. 


A  Comparative  Elevation  of  a  5,000-Kilowatt  Steam  Engine  Direct-Con- 
nected to  a  Generator,  and  a  5,000-Kilowatt  Curtis  Steam  Turbine 
Connected  to  a  Generator,  Showing  Economy  of  Space. 


THE  STEAM  TURBINE  315 

Here  is  a  well-authenticated  case:  a  plant  was  installed  con- 
taining three  vertical  cross-compound  engines^  each  driving  an 
electric  generator  of  1,000-kilowatt  capacity.  Subsequently, 
three  1,000-kilowatt  units  were  installed,  driven  by  steam  tur- 
bines. The  turbines  saved  900  square  feet  of  engine-room 
space,  and  about  38,000  cubic  feet.  If  the  entire  plant  had 
been  equipped  with  turbo-generators,  the  saving  in  space  would 
have  been  doubled,  and  the  cost  of  the  land,  the  building,  and  the 
foundations  would  have  been  reduced  by  $50,000.  In  another 
case,  a  saving  of  $3,900  was  effected  on  each  1,000-kilowatt 
foundation  in  a  power-house  by  adopting  turbo-generators  in- 
stead of  piston-driven. 

There  is  another  point  which  affects  the  cost  of  installation, 
and  that  is  the  saving  in  time,  which,  of  course,  is  money.  The 
great  vertical  piston  engines  are  laboriously  built  up  ("erect- 
ed") in  their  power-houses,  and  the  multiplicity  of  parts  re- 
quires nice  adjustment  on  the  site.  Steam  turbines  are  sent 
out  from  their  makers  with  all  the  main  parts  in  place  and 
permanently  adjusted. 

Steam  turbines  of  600  horse-power  have  been  placed  in 
service  in  from  one  to  three  days  after  being  received.  Others 
have  supplied  their  full  load  of  electric  current  for  commer- 
cial purposes  within  a  week,  even  within  five  days,  from  the 
time  they  were  taken  off  the  freight  cars. 

There  is  absolutely  no  internal  lubrication  in  the  turbine. 
Therefore,  the  exhaust  steam  can  be  condensed  into  oil-free  wa- 
ter, and  fed  hot  directly  to  the  boilers.  Superheated  steam  is 
used  without  any  injury  to  the  turbine.  Superheat  of  any  fea- 
sible temperature  can  be  used  without  reserve.  This  is  not 
the  case  with  piston  engines.  Superheat,  combined  with  a  high 
vacuum,  gives  exceptional  economy  in  the  use  of  the  turbine, 
especially  in  units  of  large  power. 

If  water  enters  the  turbine,  even  in  excessive  quantities, 
through  the  "priming,"  or  foaming,  of  the  boiler,  no  harm 
is  done.  The  speed  of  the  rotor  may  be  checked,  but  that  is  all. 
Piston  engines  have  been  wrecked  by  the  admission  of  super- 
fluous water  into  their  cylinders.  Wet  steam  does  no  injury 
to  the  turbine;  it  merely  reduces  its  capacity.  It  is  axiomatic 
that  piston  engines  show  good  economy  only  when  carrying 
their   full   load.     But  the  turbine   shows  the   same  economy. 


316  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

within  a  very  few  per  cent.,  when  running  at  anywhere  from 
one-quarter  of  its  load  to  its  full  capacity.  It  even  carries 
heavy  and  continuous  overloads  without  difficulty. 

In  the  matter  of  foundations,  the  turbine  has  another  ad- 
vantage. Foundations  for  piston  engines  are  expensive ;  for  en- 
gines of  large  power  they  are  very  expensive.  The  turbine  needs 
only  a  foundation  strong  enough  to  bear  its  weight  and  keep  it  in 
alignment.  There  are  no  "  thrusts  ^^  or  vibrations  to  be  ab- 
sorbed. The  piston  engine  must  be  bolted  down  to  its  foun- 
dation. Except  on  shipboard,  the  turbine  need  not  be  bolted 
down.  It  will  work  in  a  gallery,  or  on  a  wooden  floor  strong 
enough  to  hold  it. 

Absence  of  vibration  is  one  of  the  conspicuous  advantages 
of  the  steam  turbine.  One  of  the  favorite  diversions  of  engi- 
neers operating  turbine-driven  power  stations  is  to  puzzle  visit- 
ors by  asking  them  to  identify,  by  touching  the  stators,  those 
turbines  which  are  in  motion  and  those  which  are  at  rest.  The 
average  man  finds  the  turbine  in  motion  as  .free  from  vibration 
as  the  turbine  at  rest.  At  all  events,  this  is  true  of  horizontal 
turbines.  Unlike  piston  engines,  the  turbines  work  equally 
well  under  constant  load,  or  with  great  and  sudden  variations 
of  load.  This  makes  them  especially  valuable  in  electric-light- 
ing and  power  plants.  They  do  not  need  watching;  they  take 
care  of  themselves. 

The  applications  of  the  turbines  seem  to  be  limitless  in 
possibility.  Their  special  field  of  service  is  in  motive  power 
for  steam  vessels,  and  for  driving  electric  generators  whether 
afloat  or  ashore.  But  when  that  is  said  practically  all  is  said, 
for  we  do  nearly  everything  nowadays  by  electricity,  except  the 
driving  of  vessels.  Even  the  steam  railroads  are  adopting  the 
newer  force.  A  generation  hence  the  steam  locomotive  may  be 
as  much  of  a  rarity  as  the  horse-car  now  is, —  in  any  large  city 
except  New  York. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  steam  turbine  is  the  engine  of 
to-day.  Already  it  is  world-wide  in  its  application.  It  is  work- 
ing at  the  De  Beers  mines  in  Africa  to  the  extent  of  2,000  kilo- 
watts. It  is  driving  passenger  vessels  on  the  Clyde  and  the 
English  Channel.  The  Allan  Line  is  building  a  large  turbine 
steamer  for  the  mail  service  between  Great  Britain  and  Canada. 
The  two  new  25-knot  Cunarders  are  to  be  turbine  driven.    There 


THE  STEAM  TURBINE  317 

will  be  60,000  horse-power  in  each  ship.  The  highest-powered 
steamship  ever  built  heretofore  is  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  II.,  of 
the  North  German  Lloyd.  This  vessel  has  reciprocating  engines 
of  40,000  horse-power.  The  significance  of  the  Cunard  de- 
parture must  be  apparent  to  every  one.  And  the  comfort 
of  ocean  travelers  will  be  vastly  increased  by  the  absence  of  the 
vibrations  caused  by  piston  engines.  The  newest  ocean-going 
steam  yachts  are  turbine-driven.  Turbine  torpedo-boats  are 
no  longer  novelties.  The  great  naval  powers  are  still  experi- 
menting, but  merchant  shipowners  have  gone  far  beyond  experi- 
ment, and  martufacturers  in  all  countries  are  installing  turbines 
as  fast  as  they  can  get  them. 

In  London,  the  Underground  Electric  Eailway  Company  has 
ordered  60,000  horse-power  in  eight  turbines;  the  Metropolitan 
Eailway,  14,000  horse-power.  The  city  of  Liverpool  has  or- 
dered 4,000  horse-power  in  turbines ;  and  Brighton,  7,500  horse- 
power. One  company,  near  Glasgow,  is  putting  down  turbines 
to  the  extent  of  16,000  horse-power;  another,  in  Yorkshire, 
6,000;  and  the  town  council  of  Harrogate,  1,000,  for  lighting 
their  attractive  town.  Turbines  to  the  extent  of  4,000  horse- 
power are  ordered  for  supplying  the  electric  current  to  tram  lines 
near  London.  Nearly  all  of  these  turbines  are  horizontal,  of 
Parsons  or  modified  Parsons  type.  In  Chicago,  the  Common- 
wealth Electric  Company  has  been  using  a  big  Curtis  turbine 
since  October  2,  1903.  This  turbine  is  rated  at  5,000-kilowatt 
capacity, —  about  6,700  horse-power, —  making  500  revolutions 
per  minute,  at  a  usual  pressure  of  185  pounds.  Two  other  tur- 
bines of  the  same  make  and  capacity  have  also  been  installed, 
and  the  station  is  so  planned  that  it  can  eventually  contain  four- 
teen turbine  units,  vertical  or  horizontal,  of  whatever  type  may 
be  chosen.  Paper  mills,  textile  mills,  and  machine  shops  in  the 
United  States  are  being  successfully  operated  by  steam  turbines, 
and  electric  railways  are  ordering  them  for  their  power-houses. 
The  New  York  subway  will  be  lighted  by  electricity  generated 
by  horizontal  turbine-driven  dynamos. 

There  are  many  records  of  turbine  performance  which  those 
who  run  may  read.  Before  me  is  the  record  of  a  turbine  in 
Silesia,  which  ran  without  stopping  (except  fo^  a  few  hours  every 
three  or  four  weeks,  when  the  boilers  were  cleaned)  from  Oc- 
tober 4,  1901,  to  January  17,  1903,     The  only  repair  needed  was 


318  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

in  a  valve  which  had  been  cut  by  acid-bearing  feed-water.  The 
lubricating  oil  was  changed  only  once  in  twelve  months,  and 
only  eighty-five  gallons  were  used  in  a  year.  A  5,000-horse-power 
turbine,  at  Frankfort-on-the-Main,  ran  a  year  without  any  neces- 
sity for  repair.  At  the  Municipal  Electric  Supply  Station,  at 
Elberfeld,  a  1,000-kilowatt  turbine,  under  full  load  with  nor- 
mal conditions,  gave  the  following  results :  superheat  26° ;  steam 
pressure,  141  pounds;  steam  used  for  electrical  horse-power, 
14.4  pounds.  This  is  equivalent  to  about  12.3  pounds  per  in- 
dicated horse-power.  Turbine  performance  is  measured  by  brake 
horse-power,  or  electrical  horse-power,  not  by  indicated  horse- 
power. It  is  claimed  that  this  is  fairer  to  the  purchaser,  because 
engine  friction  and  other  variable  conditions  often  vitiate  the 
value  of  tests  that  are  calculated  in  piston-engine  ratings.  Brake 
horse-power  is  the  power  actually  delivered. 

An  American-built  turbine,  driving  a  manufacturing  plant 
operated  by  electric  motors,  has  carried  33  per  cent,  overload 
regularly  without  any  perceptible  harm.  Before  the  American 
Society  of  Mechanical  Engineers,  last  August,  an  account  was 
given  of  a  turbo-generator  in  Connecticut.  Measuring  the  power 
as  delivered  at  the  pulleys  of  the  motors,  it  was  found  that 
piston  engines  in  the  same  shops  required  three  times  as  much 
coal  as  the  turbine  to  give  the  same  power. 

New  as  the  layman  thinks  the  turbine,  the  fact  remains  that 
it  is  a  very  ancient  device.  Hero,  of  Alexandria,  described  a 
reaction  turbine  as  far  back  as  the  year  120  B.  C.  It  was  a 
spherical  vessel  mounted  on  trunnions  through  which  steam  was 
admitted,  the  exhaust  issuing  from  openings  tangental  to  the 
sphere.  Giovanni  Branca,  of  Italy,  invented  the  impact  turbine 
in  1629.  But  these  were  curiosities  rather  than  efficient  ma- 
chines, judged  by  the  requirements  of  the  present  day.  It  was 
only  when  the  electrical  age  had  got  fairly  started  that  the 
necessity  for  the  turbine  made  itself  apparent.  And  it  was  only 
then  that  we  learned  how  to  handle  the  material,  how  to  make 
the  tools  to  fashion  it,  and  how  to  overcome  the  difficulties  of 
the  enormously  high  speeds  of  which  this  rotary  prime  mover  is 
capable. 

Perhaps  no  fact  in  all  the  record  is  more  significant  than  this  r 
that  the  greatest  engine-builders  in  the  world,  a  company  whose 
mighty  reciprocating  engines  are  everywhere  regarded  as  among 


THE  STEAM  TURBINE  319 

the  marvels  of  the  industrial  world,  have  built  at  Milwaukee 
an  immense  manuf actor}^  for  the  production  of  the  rotary  prime 
movers,  which  are  destined  to  drive  the  reciprocating  engine 
into  retirement.  Nor  is  this  all.  For  the  same  company,  by  the 
same  reason,  enters  the  electrical  field.  The  builder  of  steam 
turbines  must  build  electric  generators.  This  is  the  newest 
phase  of  the  tendency  of  the  times.  For  the  turbine  and  the 
dynamo  are  henceforth  practically  inseparable. 


320  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  THE  AUTOMOBILE. 

By  CHARLES  WELSH. 

WHEN  that  famous  old  fraud  Mother  Shipton  prophe- 
sied in  the  time  of  Henry  VIII.  that  "  Carriages 
without  horses  shall  go/'  she  was  only  prophesying 
after  the  event,  for  sails,  windmills,  and  springs,  had  been  em- 
ployed as  means  of  power  locomotion  on  common  roads  early  in 
the  sixteenth  century.  These  early  inventions  it  is  true  were 
rude,  clumsy,  and  imperfect.  Johann  Hausted,  of  Nuremberg, 
for  example,  made  a  chariot  about  this  time  which  was  propelled 
by  springs.  It  was  capable  of  a  speed  of  one  and  a  quarter  miles 
an  hour !  A  veritable  Nuremberg  toy,  alongside  of  our  modern 
machines  with  a  record  of  75  miles  an  hour. 

But  far  sighted  men  had  believed  in  the  possibility  of  auto- 
mobility  for  hundreds  of  years.  The  automobile  was  fore- 
shadowed by  Eoger  Bacon  in  the  thirteenth  century,  for  he  wrote, 
'^  We  will  be  able  to  propel  carriages  with  incredible  speed  with- 
out the  assistance  of  any  animal.^^ 

If  we  take  a  hasty  glance  along  the  stream  of  Time,  noting 
by  the  way  what  the  last  four  hundred  years  have  brought  forth 
in  the  shape  of  self-propelled  carriages,  we  shall  remark  that 
the  great  Newton  suggested  propulsion  by  the  reaction  of  a  steam 
jet  in  1680,  and  that  Father  Verbiest,  a  Jesuit  missionary  to 
China,  actually  constructed  a  machine  so  propelled  in  1665.  The 
celebrated  engineer,  Pupin,  built  a  model  for  a  road  carriage  to 
be  propelled  by  an  engine  with  a  c^dinder  and  piston,  and  as  soon 
as  steam  began  to  come  into  practical  use  the  idea  of  self-pro- 
pelled vehicles  become  very  general,  and  many  busy  brains  set  to 
work  on  the  problem. 

The  great  Frenchman,  Cugnot,  who  constructed  the  earliest 
practicable  power  locomotives  for  road  use  during  the  years 
1763-1771,  may  almost  be  called  the  father  of  automobilism. 
His  first  carriage  was  designed  to  transport  cannon.    His  second 


EVOLUTION    OF    THE    AUTOMOBILE  321 

steam  carriage,  built  in  1770,  is  still  preserved  in  Paris  at  the 
Conservatoire  des  Arts  et  des  Meltiers.  "  The  ideas  of  Cngnot/' 
says  the  Marquis  de  Chasseloup-Loubat,  "  were  an  entire  century 
in  advance  of  the  mechanical  means  by  which  they  could  be 
realized." 

The  attempt  led  to  no  satisfactory  results.  Everything  was 
defective  —  motive  power,  steering,  control.  Nevertheless  the 
carriage  ran,  and  ran  so  well  that  it  broke  down  the  enclosure  of 
the  ground  on  which  it  was  tried.  It  is  an  incontestable  fact 
that  Cugnot  is  the  inventor  of  automobile  locomotion,  and  that 
the  honor  of  first  having  imagined  and  realized  a  new  method 
of  transport,  estimated  to  play  an  important  part  in  the  welfare 
of  many  lands,  belongs  to  him. 

F.  Moore  in  London,  1769,  and  Livingston,  in  1784,  were  well- 
known  makers  of  steam  carriages  of  a  kind,  as  were  also  Oliver 
Evans  and  Nathan  Eead  in  this  countr}^,  who  made  some  service- 
able machines. 

It  was  the  idea  of  the  automobile  that  led  to  the  invention  of 
the  steamboat.  Late  in  the  eighteenth  century  John  Fitch,  of 
Hartford,  Conn.,  conceived  the  idea  of  a  steam  carriage.  It 
occurred  to  him  to  construct  it  so  that  it  could  cross  a  river,  and 
this  led  him  to  build  the  first  steamboat,  which  he  ran  on  the 
Connecticut  Eiver.  The  first  horseless  steam  fire  engine  was 
devised  by  Frank  Curtis,  of  JSTewburyport,  Mass.,  shortly  after 
1860,  and  it  ran  successfully  under  its  own  steam.  In  1867  Mr. 
Curtis  built  a  steam  carriage  with  a  speed  of  25  miles  an  hour, 
and  it  ran  for  eleven  years. 

But  to  return  to  our  chronological  order,  there  is  one  machine 
made  by  Wm.  Murdock,  in  England,  about  1784,  which  is  still 
in  good  working  order,  and  the  celebrated  Cornish  engineer, 
Trevithick,  began  to  build  road  engines  in  1803.  The  first  com- 
pressed-air auto-car  was  made  about  1810.  "  It  was  in  England 
towards  the  third  decade  of  the  nineteenth  century,^^  says  the 
authority  before  quoted,  ^^that  we  saw  the  idea  of  Cugnot  re- 
appear. The  same  impulse  which  moved  English  engineers  to 
build  railroads  in  order  to  free  the  great  industrial  centers  from  ' 
the  economic  tyranny  of  those  who  constructed  canals  urged 
them  to  c'tudy  methods  of  automobile  locomotion  on  highways. 
That  is  to  say,  in  its  inception  automobile  locomotion  was  con- 
sidered as  an  auxiliary  to  the  railroad,  which  it  really  is. 


322  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

"  Unfortunately  the  promoters  of  the  railway  lines  did  not  at 
all  understand  the  respective  spheres  of  action  of  the  machine  on 
the  rail  and  the  machine  on  the  road.  They  took  umbrage  at 
automobile  locomotion,  and  since  they  had  much  capital  and  in- 
fluence at  their  disposal,  they  secured  a  law  from  the  English 
Parliament  which  effectually  killed  automobile  locomotion.  It 
ordained  among  other  things  that  a  man  carrying  a  red  flag  by 
day,  or  a  red  lantern  by  night,  must  be  kept  a  hundred  yards  in 
advance  of  every  automobile  vehicle/' 

Until  about  1840  steam  was  a  common  motive  power  for  road- 
vehicles.  The  road  engine  them,  as  the  bicycle  and  automobile 
to-day,  led  to  great  improvements  in  road  building  in  England 
and  on  the  Continent  of  Europe.  The  famous  MacAdam,  Tel- 
ford and  Neill,  men  whose  names  are  indissolubly  connected  with 
the  best  modern  road-making,  flourished  at  about  this  time.  But 
British  ingenuity  never  succeeded  in  making  the  light  and  easy 
running  machines  which  the  Frenchmen  and  the  Americans 
achieved  in  these  later  years. 

With  the  coming  of  the  railroad,  the  road-engine  was  prac- 
tically doomed  for  the  time,  although  in  reality  the  former  was 
the  outcome  of  the  craze  for  the  latter. 

The  vested  interests  in  the  railroad,  as  we  have  seen,  soon 
became  so  enormous  that  legislation  was  directed  to  the  restric- 
tion of  the  road-engines,  and  they  were  employed  under  all  sorts 
of  crippling  rules  and  regulations  besides  these  referred  to,  until 
they  practically  disappeared,  and  their  more  powerful  and  swifter 
rival  held  the  field  alone  for  steam  transportation  for  men  and 
merchandise  until  the  modern  revival,  which  may  be  said  to  have 
had  its  origin  in  about  1878  when  Leon  Bollee,  a  French  engi- 
neer, established  his  auto-car  which  weighed  three  and  a  half 
tons.  Compare  this  with  the  modern  Daimler  petroleum  motor 
which  weighs  but  one  ton  and  will  do  twice  as  much  work.  In 
1886  Count  Albert  de  Dion  in  his  steam  automobile  showed  what 
was  the  first  practical  horseless  carriage  of  the  modem  type. 
Another  Frenchman,  Serpollet,  was  among  the  beginners  of  the 
modern  perfect  steam  auto-car,  and  from  Germany  came  the  first 
oil  motor  —  the  Bentz. 

A  great  step  in  the  popularization  of  the  auto-car  was  made  in 
the  early  nineties,  when  the  owners  of  Le  Petit  Journal  of  Paris 
organized   a  race  between  the  various  makers  which  attracted 


EVOLUTION    OF    THE    AUTOMOBILE  323 

world-wide  attention,  and  in  1898,  when  the  Exhibition  was  held 
in  Paris  under  the  auspices  of  the  Automobile  Club  of  France, 
at  which  one  thousand  one  hundred  vehicles  were  shown  and 
thirty  thousand  spectators  were  present. 

A  great  impulse  to  the  development  and  use  of  tlie  automo- 
bile in  England  was  given  by  the  withdrawal  in  1897  of  many 
of  the  laws  which  had  hitherto  hampered  and  restricted  them. 
Meanwhile  our  own  inventors  and  manufacturers  were  not  idle, 
and  they  soon  set  about  working  out  the  possibilities  of  the  ma- 
chine and  developing  it,  until  to-day  the  American  automobile, 
if  it  does  not  lead  the  world,  is  at  least  abreast  of  those  of  the 
pioneer  countries  of  Europe.  In  June  1896  an  automobile  con- 
test, organized  by  the  proprietor  of  the  Cosmopolitan  Magazine, 
was  made  in  New  York  from  the  City  Hall  to  Tarrytown  on  the 
Hudson  and  return.  And  this  seems  to  have  given  a  remarkable 
and  powerful  impulse  to  automobile  industry  in  this  country.  It 
attracted  attention  all  over  the  country.  The  winner  was  the 
Duryea  gasoline  motor  w^agon. 

It  was  these  and  other  contests  which  brought  about  the  for- 
mation of  the  American  Automobile  Club  with  its  headquarters 
in  New  York  —  which  has  now  a  large  and  increasing  member- 
ship roll.  They  have  already  co-operated  with  the  League  of 
American  Wheelmen  in  their  good  work  on  behalf  of  good  roads. 
It  is  said  that  in  the  summer  of  1898  there  were  not  thirty  auto- 
mobiles in  the  United  States,  but  by  August,  1899,  at  least 
eighty  companies  had  been  organized  with  an  aggregate  capital 
of  nearly  $400,000,000.  Two  years  later  over  300  firms  were 
making  automobiles,  while  to-day  these  figures  may  fairly  be 
doubled,  although  there  are  no  reliable  statistics  available. 

The  patent  office  records  furnish  a  sure  indication  of  the 
directions  in  which  the  minds  of  our  vast  army  of  inventors  are 
running  —  and  of  the  interest  taken  in  any  given  industry.  No 
less  than  275  patents  dealing  with  automobiles  in  some  shape 
or  another  were  recorded  during  the  last  ten  years  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  and  the  annual  average  since  then  has  been  con- 
siderably larger. 

This  enormous  industry  has  naturally  led  to  the  establishment 
of  important  periodicals  devoted  to  its  interests  all  over  the 
country, —  East  and  West,  North  and  South.  About  twenty  such 
periodicals  are  extant  to-day,  and  the  magnitude  of  the  industry 


324  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

is  reflected  in  the  most  striking  manner  by  the  immense  adver- 
tising patronage  which  they  enjoy.  Automobile  literature  in 
Europe  is  as  extensive.  The  number  of  books  devoted  to  the 
subject,  the  attention  it  receives  in  the  magazines  and  the  num- 
ber of  new  automobile  journals  which  spring  up  every  week  is 
too  great  even  to  be  chronicled  here.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to 
go  to  the  trade  journals  to  see  this.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to 
take  up  a  magazine  or  a  newspaper  to-day  without  being  re- 
minded of  the  presence  of  this  new  industry,  and  the  streets  of 
every  great  city,  and  every  highway  in  the  United  States,  give 
evidence  that  this  great  adjunct  to,  and  developer  of,  commerce, 
has  come  to  stay. 

We  have  referred  to  the  effect  of  the  automobile  and  the  cycle 
on  the  development  of  good  roads,  and  have  given  some  idea  of 
the  enormous  industries  to  which  it  has  given  rise,  furnishing 
employment  to  hundreds  of  thousands  throughout  the  country. 
But  this  new  means  of  locomotion  is  doing  more  than  this.  As 
men  "run  to  and  fro  knowledge  is  increased,^^  new  tracts  of 
country  are  opened  up  not  only  for  the  traveler  for  pleasure,  but 
for  profitable  purposes  as  well.  The  chief  interest  in  the  auto- 
mobile has  hitherto  been  in  its  usefulness  for  the  transporation 
of  man.  It  is  now  receiving  considerable  attention  as  affording 
increased  facilities  for  the  transportation  of  merchandise,  and 
it  may  be  the  means  for  sending  a  great  proportion  of  the 
dwellers  in  crowded  cities  back  to  the  land.  With  increased 
facilities  of  cross-country  transportation  there  comes  the  possi- 
bility of  that  petite  culture,  in  which  "  every  rood  of  land  main- 
tains its  man,"  such  as  is  found  par  excellence  among  the  pros- 
perous and  contented  peasantry  of  Belgium.  Of  course  we  must 
have  our  agriculture  on  the  grand  scale  in  the  West,  but  around 
and  about  our  Eastern  cities  there  are  countless  acres  of  land 
which  might  be  turned  to  profitable  use,  if  only  there  were  cheap 
and  easy  methods  of  bringing  their  produce  to  market,  and  the 
automobile  may  be  the  means  of  accomplishing  this. 

Indeed,  it  has  already  done  so  in  England  and  in  Europe. 
The  use  of  motors  for  farm  and  market  work  is  capable  of  enor- 
mous development.  But  there  is  no  limit  to  their  employment. 
The  War  Department,  the  Postoffice,  the  doctor,  the  commercial 
traveler  —  all  must  use  the  automobile  in  the  time  to  come,  and 
as  has  been  well  said,  "the  revolution  worked  by  railways  is  a 


EVOLUTION    OF    THE    AUTOMOBILE  325 

small  thing  compared  with  the  revolution  now  being  produced 
by  the  motor-car/^ 

We  have  seen  that  there  are  three  great  periods  in  the  evolu- 
tion of  the  automobile  —  first,  the  long  period  of  its  inception 
before  the  invention  of  railroads,  and  its  partial  development  in 
the  earlier  decades  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Then  the  period 
of  abeyance,  when  it  was  eclipsed,  if  not  driven  out  of  existence, 
by  the  railroad  power,  and  last,  the  great  modern  revival  of  the 
past  twenty-five  years. 

Electricity,  steam  and  gasoline  or  naphtha,  are  the  three  main 
sources  of  power  that  do  the  bidding  of  the  man  behind  the  lever. 
Other  sources  of  power,  such  as  compressed  air,  liquid  air,  car- 
bonic acid  gas  and  alcohol,  have  been  experimented  with,  but  are 
regarded  as  impracticable  by  expert  authorities.  In  large  cities, 
the  electric  vehicle  was  the  first  to  come  extensively  into  favor. 
It  is  especially  adapted  for  all  city  uses,  for  it  is  without  odor 
or  vibration,  and  is  almost  noiseless ;  but  so  long  as  it  is  obliged 
to  depend  upon  a  storage  battery  it  must  be  very  heavy  and  can 
run  but  a  limited  distance  —  about  25  miles  —  without  recharg- 
ing. Therefore  the  automobiles  run  by  steam  or  gasoline  are 
superior  for  long  distance  purposes. 

It  is  not  within  the  province  of  this  paper  to  enter  into  tech- 
nical mechanical  details  of  the  evolution  of  the  automobile.  In- 
creased power  combined  with  diminished  weight,  higher  speed 
with  smooth-running,  accurate  and  simple  steering  gear,  perfect 
lubrication  and  absolute  control,  are  the  directions  in  which 
it  is  being  evolved  before  our  eyes,  and  it  is  in  these  directions 
that  manufacturers  have  been  moving  during  the  past  twenty- 
five  years.  Every  day  sees  some  superfiuous  part  removed, 
some  simplification  introduced.  Every  month  or  so  these  modi- 
fications bring  about  a  reduction  of  cost  both  of  the  machine 
itself  and  in  its  maintenance.  Every  day  also  sees  some  new 
adaptation  of  it  to  commercial  purposes. 

The  evolution  of  the  form  and  shape  of  the  automobile  is  one 
of  the  most  interesting  features  of  its  development.  The  first 
railroad  carriages  were  just  the  ordinary  coach  on  flanged  wheels 
to  keep  them  on  the  track.  The  adaptation  to  conditions  gradu- 
ally brought  about  our  magnificent  hotels  on  wheels,  in  the  shape 
of  parlor,  dining  and  sleeping  cars.  So  the  first  motor  carriages 
were  built  on  the  plan  of  the  ordinary  horse  carriage,  but  every 


326  MODERN  INTENTIONS 

day  sees  a  departure  from  that  form  and  a  development  more 
in  accordance  with  the  conditions.  What  the  ultimate  type  will 
be  it  is  difficult  to  forecast,  but  it  will  doubtless  develop  into  a 
bluntly  pointed  front  —  a  tendency,  perhaps,  to  cigar  shape  — 
and  a  much  lower  body,  probably  within  a  step  of  the  ground. 

As  we  have  indicated,  the  cost  of  automobiles  is  in  a  state  of 
constant  change.  From  the  catalogues  of  the  leading  manufac- 
turers issued  in  1904,  it  appears  that  an  electric  speed  road 
wagon  of  one  of  the  leading  types  can  be  bought  for  $850 
fully  equipped,  and  larger  and  more  expensive  types  up  to  $2,000. 
These  carriages  are  started  as  easily  as  turning  on  an  electric 
light.  The  brakes  are  simple  and  easily  handled  and  the  hitch- 
ing strap  is  done  away  with  by  the  fact  that  all  that  is  necessary 
to  secure  your  finding  the  vehicle  where  you  left  it  is  to  take  out 
the  starting  plug  and  put  it  in  your  pocket.  Goods  delivery 
wagons  of  the  same  motive  power,  and  with  the  same  general 
equipment,  cost  from  $1,400  upward  according  to  size  and  carr}^- 
ing  capacity.  An  electric  carriage  for  family  use  costs  about 
$2,000,  and  an  omnibus  from  $3,000  to  $4,000. 

The  prices  of  gasoline  vehicles  range  from  $1,000  for  a  first- 
class  road  carriage  to  $4,000  for  an  omnibus.  The  cost  of  run- 
ning may  vary  from  50  cents  to  $1.00  and  more  per  hundred 
miles,  according  to  the  size  of  the  machine. 

The  driver  of  gasoline  vehicles  must  know  something  of  the 
principle  of  the  machine,  and  is  often  called  upon  to  apply  his 
knowledge.  But  he  can  go  anywhere  —  up  hill  and  down  over 
the  worst  roads  through  mud  and  snow  and  can  go  at  any  rate 
he  chooses.  He  can  buy  his  fuel  in  any  village  street  and  in 
every  city,  and  is  not  dependent  upon  electric  charging  stations. 
Therefore,  as  we  have  said,  for  touring  purposes  tbe  gasoline 
vehicle  has  great  advantages  over  that  propelled  by  electricity. 

Steam  has  been  more  generally  applied  to  the  heavier  classes 
of  vehicles,  though  some  pretty  lighter  ones  have  been  made, 
chiefly  in  this  country.  They  are  easily  started  and  easily 
stopped  and  fuel  and  water  can  be  obtained  anywhere ;  but  they 
have  obvious  disadvantages  and  have  not  come  into  general  use 
for  passenger  purposes. 

Eecords,  like  "  promises  and  pie-crust,"  are,  as  we  all  know, 
made  to  be  broken,  and  almost  every  day  sees  the  old  ones  shat- 
tered and  new  ones  made.    A  speed  of  seventy-five  miles  an  hour, 


EVOLUTION    OF    THE    AUTOMOBILE  327 

attained  on  an  ordinary  road  in  France,  and  a  3,000  mile  trip 
lasting  fifteen  days  and  two  hours  in  this  country  were  two  of 
the  records  for  1904. 

A  last  word  on  the  evolution  of  the  automobile  should  be  on 
the  subject  of  the  evolution  of  public  opinion  with  regard  to  it. 
When  the  bicycle  was  becoming  popular  the  prejudice  against  it 
from  pedestrians  and  drivers  was  unbounded,  and  the  automo- 
bile has  been  even  more  severely  attacked,  perhaps  not  altogether 
without  reason.  But  as  the  driver  of  the  automobile  becomes 
more  expert  and  the  public  becomes  more  accustomed  to  them, 
these  prejudices  will  die  out.  Horses  are  being  educated  to  meet 
motors  without  shying,  as  they  were  educated  to  meet  railroad 
trains,  trolley  ears  and  bicycles,  and  familiarity  is  daily  breeding 
—  not  contempt,  but  the  necessary  added  care  on  the  part  of  all 
concerned,  which  this  new  method  of  locomotion  calls  for. 


328  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


AN  ELECTRICAL    STORM    INDICATOR. 

By  EUGENE  P.  LYLE,  Jr. 

A  STORM  raging  somewhere  a  hundred  miles  away  calls  a 
man  np  by  telephone  and  tells  him  in  plain  storm-lan- 
guage what  it  is  doing  and  where  it  is  going  —  that  is 
one  of  the  recent  astounding  achievements  in  electrical  science. 
Benjamin  Eranklin,  it  is  true,  brought  the  storm  down  to  him 
via  a  kite-string,  but  Franklin  and  the  storm  had  to  come 
together  if  they  wished  to  communicate.  The  wireless  tele- 
phone, however,  has  now  changed  all  this. 

In  his  laboratory  at  Intra,  in  Italy,  Dr.  Thomas  Tommasina 
has  one  telephone  on  his  desk  and  another  in  his  living  apart- 
ments, and  no  storms  can  knock  at  his  door  without  being 
heard. 

Dr.  Tommasina's  telephone  is,  to  all  appearances,  like  any 
other,  but  in  its  internal  arrangement  there  is  an  important  dif- 
ference. When  he  hears  some  one  call  him  up  on  the  telephone, 
the  sturdy  inventor  answers  by  putting  his  ear  to  the  receiver 
and  listening.  Then  he  announces  in  a  matter-of-fact  way  to 
those  who  may  be  present  that  a  storm  is  coming.  The  visitor 
is  skeptical.  Outdoors  all  is  clear  and  serene.  There  are  none 
of  the  little  menacing  gusts  of  wind,  nor  the  dread,  sultry  quiet. 
Dr.  Tommasina  nevertheless  declares  that  he  cannot  be  mis- 
taken, for  has  he  not  just  received  a  telephone  message  from 
the  storm  itself?  When  before  long  the  storm  is  seen  to  ap- 
proach, th-e  visitor  is  amazed  and  wants  to  know  more  about  this 
new  telephonic  contrivance. 

It  all  began  with  metal  filings.  First  the  inventor  came  upon 
a  curious  phenomenon  not  before  known  to  him;  namely,  that 
the  tiny  grains  of  metal  filings  have  the  property  of  adhering  to 
each  other  under  the  action  of  an  electric  current.  He  had 
constructed  a  very  elementary  sort  of  an  electro-magnet  which 
he  called  by  its  French  technical  name,  cohereur.     This  appa- 


AN  ELECTRICAL  STORM  INDICATOR  329 

ratus,  for  detailed  explanation  of  which  see  Figs.  1,  2,  and  3, 
was  contrived  as  follows.  A  little  pendnlnm  of  copper  and 
zinc,  nickled  over,  with  a  ball  one  centimeter  in  diameter  (.394 
inches),  was  suspended  from  a  support  by  a  very  fine  wire  and 
connected  with  one  of  the  poles  of  a  battery.  A  fraction  of  an 
inch  below  the  pendulum  ball  a  copper  disk  about  an  inch  in  di- 
ameter was  welded  to  an  elastic  copper  stem  and  connected  with 
the  other  pole  of  the  battery.  The  disk  was  horizontal,  and 
the  pendulum  was  perpendicular  to  the  center  of  the  disk.  The 
electric  circuit  was  connected  with  a  second  circuit  that  included 
a  small  incandescent  lamp,  and  this  second  circuit  could  be  cut 
out  at  will.  The  experimenter  laid  a  pinch  of  nickel  filings 
on  the  disk  and  lowered  the  pendulum  till  it  barely  touched  the 
filings.  Then,  turning  on  the  current,  he  slowly  lowered  the 
disk  a  very  little,  and  made  his  first  discovery  in  the  series, 
observing  that  a  delicate,  shining  thread  was  clinging  between 
the  pendulum  ball  and  the  disk.  Under  the  magnifying  glass 
the  shining  thread  proved  to  be  made  of  tiny  grains  of  the 
nickel  filings,  hanging  one  to  another,  and  forming  a  flexible 
chain  through  which  the  current  passed.  He  knew  the  current 
was  passing,  because  the  incandescent  lamp  was  still  lighted. 
Being  very  careful  not  to  jar  the  contrivance,  he  managed  to 
make  these  little  chains  almost  two-thirds  of  an  inch  in  length, 
one  at  a  time.  If  a  chain  broke  at  its  base,  the  top  section  would 
hang  to  the  pendulum  for  an  appreciable  time,  although  the 
lamp  had  gone  out  and  the  current  was  interrupted.  When  this 
happened,  if  the  end  of  the  hanging  chain,  by  lowering  the 
pendulum,  were  made  to  touch  the  top  of  the  little  heap  of  filings 
on  the  disk  below,  the  circuit  would  close  again,  the  incandescent 
lamp  would  be  relighted,  and  a  new  chain  made  by  gently  draw- 
ing up  the  pendulum.  This,  briefly,  is  the  electro-magnet,  or 
cohereur,  which  was  to  become  the  key  to  the  invention  of  the 
storm  prophet. 

When  Dr.  Tommasina  wearied  of  experimenting  with  filings, 
and  among  other  things  tried  carbon  on  his  magnet,  he  was  on 
the  direct  road  to  his  wireless  storm  telephone.  His  substitute 
for  the  metal  filings  was  carbon  powder,  which  he  procured 
by  grinding  up  an  arc-light  carbon  and  sifting  the  result  so  as  to 
get  the  average-sized  grains.  Putting  a  pinch  of  the  grains 
on  the  copper  disk,  after  many  trials  he  was  able  to  produce 


330 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


chains  twelve  to  fifteen  mm.  long 
(.47  to  .59  inch).  Having  satisfied 
himself  that  the  carbon  grains  would 
hang  together  by  the  help  of  an  elec- 
tric current,  the  inventor  proceeded 
to  make  more  magnets,  or  cohereurs, 
until  he  succeeded  finally  in  getting 
a  carbon  instrument  as  sensitive  as 
the  one  with  metal  filings;  the  car- 
bon grains,  moreover,  having  the 
very  important  advantage  of  in- 
stantly becoming  demagnetized  and 
falling  apart  when  the  current  is 
turned  off,  and  as  quickly  reforming 
into  chains  when  the  current  is 
turned  on  again. 

We  have  already  noted  that  the 
filings  in  becoming  demagnetized 
still  cling  together  for  several  sec- 
onds. Dr.  Tommasina  next  placed, 
his  carbon  cohereur  vertically,  and 
plunged  the  two  short  wires  of  its 
electrodes  into  cups  of  mercury  in 
order  to  avoid  jars,  and  with  this 
arrangement  he  rendered  the  appara- 
tus so  sensitive  that  it  sufficed  merely 
a,  Electro  Magnet,  b,  Iron  to  stop  the  current  for  the  carbon  to 
Membrane,     c   and  d,   Insu-    ^^^^  ^jj  conductibility,  and  that  with- 

out  any  jarring  whatever. 

It  was  now  necessary  to  have 
another  cohereur^  also  of  carbon, 
and  practically  the  same  as  the 
one  soon  to  be  applied  to  the 
storm  telephone.  It  consisted 
simply  of  two  arc-light  carbons 
inserted  in  a  glass  tube,  which,  when  finally  adjusted,  proved 
to  be  an  instrument  of  extreme  sensitiveness.  Seeing  what  he 
could  do  with  non-metallic  conductors,  the  inquisitive  scientist 
wished  to  determine  whether  the  human  body  could  become  the 
seat  of  extra  currents  inducted  by  electric  vibrations,  and  placed 


Outline  of  the  Tommasina 
Telephone,  Showing  Car- 
bon Magnet. 


lating  Covers.  e,  Insu- 
lating Plaque  of  Magnet, 
f,  Cavity  for  Filings  of 
Magnet,  g,  Mica  Covering, 
h  and  i,  Electrodes  of  the 
Magnet,  k,  Insulating  Mem- 
brane. 1,  Iron  Plaque,  m, 
Filings  or  Carbon  Pov^der. 
n  and  o,  Silver  Sheets,  p 
and  q,  Mica  Sheets,  r  and 
s,  Poles. 


AN  ELECTRICAL  STORM  INDICATOR 


331 


himself  in  the  circuit  with  his  cohereur  and  demonstrated  his 
hypothesis.  Although  this  proved  to  be  only  a  side  line  of 
investigation,  as  far  as  the  storm  prophet  is  concerned,  Dr. 
Tommasina  was,  however,  nearing  the  goal,  for  he  succeeded  in 
obtaining  the  self-demagnetization,  or  auto-decoheration,  of  his 
carbon  magnet  (a  peculiar  property  of  carbon  powder,  which 
he  believes  he  was  the  first  to  discover).  By  applying  this 
discovery  to  the  telephone  he  now  found  a  means  to  receive 
telephone  signaling  without  the  aid  of  wires.  By  automatic  de- 
magnetization is  meant  the  immediate  disappearing  of  coher- 
ence between  the  carbon  grains  after  each  electric  wave,  and  that 
without  any  shock  or  jar  or  stopping  of  the  current  being  needed. 


Fig  4.     Arrangement  for  Operating  Dr.   Tommasina's  Telephone. 

Dr.  Tommasina  was,  however,  not  yet  satisfied  with  this  dis- 
covery (brought  about  by  means  of  a  glass  tube  cohereur  of  arc- 
light  carbons),  for  the  automatic  phase  was  still  very  irregular, 
and  often  a  shock  or  the  interruption  of  the  current  was  needed 
to  make  the  grains  demagnetize.  Finally  he  blamed  the  inertia 
of  the  relays  for  his  poor  success,  and,  with  the  second  battery, 
simply  cut  them  out  of  the  circuit  and  went  on  with  his  ex- 
perimenting. In  their  place  he  inserted  a  telephone  receiver, 
but  though  no  shock  was  now  ever  required  to  make  the  grains 
shake  loose  of  one  another,  yet  sometimes  the  magnetism  would 
not  pass  away  quick  enough. 


332 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


The  inventor  now  began  to  work  on  still  another  cohereur 
which  he  could  put  into  the  case  of  the  telephone  receiver  itself. 
Erom  a  sheet  of  ebonite  about  .1  inch  thick  he  cut  out  a  rectangle 
12mm.  by  15mm.  (.4728  inch  by  .59  inch),  bored  a  hole  .7  inch 
in  diameter  in  the  center,  and  down  the  middle  of  each  face  filed 
a  notch  parallel  with  the  longest  side  of  the  rectangle.  He 
then  passed  a  silk-covered  G-erman-silver  wire  through  the  hole, 
and  along  the  notch  on  either  side,  and  twisted  the  two  ends 
together  (see  the  small  cut  in  Fig.  6),  then  attached  a  second 
wire  in  the  same  way,  opposite  the  first.  Both  wires  had  been 
bored  and  polished  at  the  place  where  they  passed  through  the 
hole.  The  hole  was  then  almost  completely  filled  with  well-dried 
carbon  powder  and  plugged  up  with  a  sheet  of  mica  cemented 
over  it  on  each  face  of  the  ebonite.  This,  then,  was  the  new 
electro-magnet,  or  cohereur.  Its  electrodes  were  simply  the  two 
wires,  about  .04  of  an  inch  apart,  brought  in  contact  with  the 
powdered  carbon.  An  examination  of  Fig.  6  will  make  the 
explanation  clear. 

Following  out  his  idea.  Dr.  Tommasina  unscrewed  the  cover 
of   a   telephone   receiver,   cut   the   wires   of   the   electro-magnet 


^ 

H^B 

liHml>%m™T 

"iHj 

P^^^lff 

iiii^^ 

1 

^rmmwiimillMlllMlli^ 

Fig.    5.     Telephone  with   Dr.    Tommasina's   ]Magnet   of   Carbon   Powder. 


inside,  and  inserted  his  new  cohereur  so  as  not  to  touch  the 
vibrating  membrane.  This  arrangement  worked  to  perfection 
with  one  cell  of  a  dry  battery  and  proved  to  have  a  sensitive- 
ness equal,  if  not  superior,  to  the  best  metal-filing  receivers. 
The  cavity  of  the  cohereur  being  almost  filled  with  powdered 
carbon,  the  receiver  operated  in  all  positions. '   By  putting  the 


AN  ELECTRICAL  STORM  INDICATOR  333 

ear  to  the  telephone  one  could  hear  a  clear,  clean-cut  shock  with 
each  electric  wave,  no  matter  how  great  the  rapidity.  With  car- 
bon powder  thus  substituted  for  filings,  there  resulted  not 
only  the  advantage  of  automatic  demagnetization,  but  a  most 
satisfactory  regularity,  even  with  strong  currents.  The  inven- 
tor explains  that  every  microphone  is  but  a  magnet-demagnetizer 
(cohereur  auto-decohereur) ,  whose  sensitiveness  increases  in- 
versely as  its  size  and  the  quantity  of  powder  it  contains.  In- 
stead of  carbon  powder,  filings  may  be  put  between  the  carbon 
disks  and  the  spoken  words  are  reproduced  in  the  receiver  just 
the  same.  Either  cohereur,  applied  to  a  vibrating  membrane, 
constitutes  a  microphone.  Dr.  Tommasina  hopes  that  he  will 
be  able  to  register  telegraph  messages  by  inserting  a  Morse  ap- 
paratus in  the  circuit  of  the  cohereur,  and  solve  the  problem 
of  rapid  transmission  by  means  of  the  Hertzian  waves. 

Dr.  Tommasina  calls  his  altered  telephone  an  electro-radio- 
phone, because  it  has  the  property  of  signaling  the  radiations 
produced  by  electric  discharges  of  near  or  distant  storms  by 
means  of  transforming  such  radiations  into  sounds.  Several 
physicists  had  already  made  instruments  which  would  register 
atmospheric  discharges  automatically,  as  with  tubes  of  metal 
filings.  They  are,  in  fact,  registering  barometers  or  electro- 
radiographs.  Professor  Boggio  Lera,  another  Italian  scientist, 
constructed  an  apparatus  that  would  trace  little  lines,  like 
arrow-shafts,  to  indicate  the  intensity  of  distant  atmospheric 
discharges.  Dr.  Tommasina's  method,,  however,  is  much  more 
vivid.  His  observations  at  Intra,  Italy,  have  convinced  him  of 
its  utility.  The  instrument  is  practically  that  already  described, 
the  carbon  cohereur  auto-decohereur  in  a  telephone  receiver. 
There  is  no  metal  contact  whatever.  The  electrodes  are  two  lit- 
tle arc-light  carbons  adjusted  so  as  to  touch  lightly  in  a  glass 
tube,  and  between  them  are  placed  little  grains  of  the  same 
carbon.  These  latter  have  been  separated  from  their  own  dust, 
and  they  and  the  electrodes  have  been  thoroughly  dried  in  a  flame. 
The  cohereur  is  fixed  vertically  in  a  tube  of  the  telephone  horn 
and  inserted  in  the  circuit  of  the  electro-magnet.  Thus,  when 
the  receiver  is  to  the  ear,  the  cohereur  is  horizontal,  and  the 
grains  have  an  equal  pressure  on  each  electrode.  Because  car- 
bon is  so  porous,  the  glass  tube  had  to  be  hermetically  sealed 
to  protect  it  from  all  traces  of  humidity. 


334 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


His  laboratory  being  some  seven  yards  from  the  ground, 
Dr.  Tommasina  ran  three  copper  wires  through  a  crack  in  the 
glass  of  his  window  and  spread  them  outside  like  a  fan,  whence 
they  stretched  to  a  platform.  This  platform  was  covered,  but 
open  to  the  weather  on  all  sides.  The  wires  terminated  in  rub- 
ber tubes,  and  were  fixed  to  glass  insulators  covered  inside  and 
out  with  paraffine.     These  insulators  were  twelve  yards  from  the 

ground  and  two  yards  apart.  The 
wires  were  thirty  yards  long.  In 
the  laboratory  the  ground  connection 
was  made  by  a  conductor  of  water. 
When  a  storm  should  come  too  near 
for  safety,  all  the  connections  could 
be  easily  removed. 

Dr.  Tommasina  describes  one  occa- 
sion when  his  storm  prophet  was 
more  entertaining  than  usual.  Till 
noon  of  a  September  day  the  weather 
had  been  a  model  of  calm  beauty, 
but,  nevertheless,  the  radiophone  had 
been  making  varied  noises,  with  very 
clear  shocks,  ever  since  morning. 
There  were  certainly  some  atmos- 
pheric discharges  at  a  great  distance. 
Towards  two  o'clock  the  telephone 
bell  rang,  and  in  the  telephone  the 
noises  grew  more  and  more  energetic. 

Fig    6.    a,  Case  of  Receiveri  Sometimes  they  resembled  the  pro- 

b,     Cover    of     Receiver,     c,  ,  ^       ,,.  »   ,i        -,        i     •_  i T 

Electro-radiophone,    d    and  longed  rollmg  o±  thunder,  but  these 

e     German-silver    Wire,    f,  ^ame    from    many    discharges,    ex- 
Electro-magnet.     g     and     h,  /  ,    °  .    . 

Wire  Connections,    i,  Little  tremely  rapid  and  ot  varymg  mtens- 

.    Dry   Battery,     k,    Receiving  •-  o  ±r^      i^  ii    ^„^p.   ^^.^p   f^p. 

Wire.     1,  Ground  Wire,     m,  "3'      ^^oon  xne   DCii  rang   more  ±ie 

Telephone  Membrane.  quently,   and  by  half-past  three  it 

was  jangling  incessantly,  and 
he  cut  it  out  of  the  circuit.  But  now  distant  lightning  could 
be  seen  on  the  horizon,  and  large  clouds  began  to  form  here  and 
there,  though  as  yet  no  thunder  was  audible  to  the  naked  ear. 
The  noises  in  the  telephone  had  steadily  grown  more  intense, 
and  then  of  a  sudden  they  changed  to  a  compact  crackling, 
steady  in  volume  and  continuous.     Several  seconds  later  rain 


AN  ELECTRICAL  STORM  INDICATOR  335 

began  to  fall,  and  simultaneously  the  first  thunder  clap  made 
itself  heard  most  energetically.  The  inventor  had  no  sooner 
removed  the  connections  of  his  apparatus  than  torrents  of  water 
flooded  the  streets,  and  the  darting  lightning  struck  the  ground 
in  several  places  nearby.  When  the  storm  had  passed  over,  Dr. 
Tommasina  reestablished  his  connections,  and  listened  to  the  last 
distant  discharges,  even  to  their  disappearing  altogether. 

When  the  weather  changes  without  bringing  on  a  storm,  the 
peculiar  crackling  already  mentioned  foretells  it  faithfully,  even 
twelve  hours  before  rainfall.  Thus,  because  of  its  great  sensi- 
tiveness, the  electro-radiophone  may  some  day  be  invaluable  on 
shipboard  for  discovering  and  locating  distant  storms,  for  fol- 
lowing their  course,  and  as  a  warning  to  get  out  of  their  way. 


333  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


WHEN    EARTHQUAKES    WRITE    THEIR 
AUTOGRAPHS. 

By  LUDLOW  BROWNELL. 

THE  world's  earthquake  headquarters  are  at  Shide,  Isle  of 
Wight,  and,  oddly  enough,  in  a  stable.  But  though 
humble  the  building  be,  every  able  quake  of  the  ten 
thousand  a  year  has  to  report  there  promptly  and  have  its  picture 
taken.  The  owner  of  the  stable  insists  on  this.  He  is  John 
Milne,  a  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Societ}^,  who  for  twenty  years  was 
Professor  of  Geology-  and  of  Mining  in  the  Imperial  University 
in  Tokio,  Japan. 

Every  earthquake  of  any  pretensions  at  all,  whether  in  Japan, 
Alaska,  Kamchatka,  or  at  the  bottom  of  the  deepest  sea  (where, 
indeed,  most  quakes  originate),  sends  its  signature  through 
the  earth  direct  to  Professor  Milne's  stable.  Then,  to  make 
sure,  it  sends  out  "  repeats  "  rippling  along  the  earth's  surface 
east  and  west.  These  repeats  reach  the  stable,  in  due  course, 
from  opposite  directions  and  establish  the  genuineness  of  the 
through  message. 

But  quite  as  unique  as  his  stable  will  be  Professor  Milne's 
new  earthquake  observatory.  Here  instruments  will  be  con- 
stantly on  the  watch,  and  will  report  to  him  if  the  earth's 
crust  humps  itself  up  so  much  as  an  inch  five  hundred  miles 
away.  So  delicate  are  these  Milne  pendulums  that  the  pressure 
of  the  dew  on  the  ground  outside  of  the  observatories,  and  even 
light  and  shade,  affect  them.  They  bend  towards  a  shadow, 
swinging  in  the  direction  of  that  side  of  the  building  which 
is  the  damper  and  therefore  the  heavier,  while  the  sunny  side, 
being  the  drier,  exerts  less  pressure  and  does  not  tip  things  so 
much. 

Little  bendings  are  in  progress  all  the  time.  The  "immov- 
able "  hills  are  bowing  and  scraping  to  each  other  constantly. 


EARTHQUAKE  AUTOGRAPHS  337 

Every  evening,  as  the  dew  settles  in  the  valleys  between  them, 
they  nod  one  to  another.  So,  likewise,  do  the  mountains,  even 
to  a  greater  extent.  Gravity  is  tugging  all  the  time.  And  in 
London,  too,  where  earthquake  sensations  are  practically  un- 
known, the  earth  bends  daily,  and  the  buildings,  like  the  hills 
and  the  mountains,  nod  to  their  friends  opposite  when  the 
morning  traffic  begins.  On  Sunday,  usually,  their  manners  take 
a  rest,  excepting  in  such  places  as  Petticoat  Lane,  where  busi- 
ness flourishes  in  as  lively  a  fashion  as  in  Paris.  Heine  said 
that  even  the  trees  made  obeisance  to  Napoleon  the  First  when 
he  entered  Berlin.  This  was  imaginative,  yet  truthful,  for  the 
weight  of  the  crowd  along  Unter  den  Linden  made  a  tilting  suffi- 
cient for  Professor  Milne's  pendulums  to  have  recorded  dis- 
tinctly. One  might  say  the  crust  of  the  earth  acts  like  a  steel 
rpring,  it  bends  so  easily. 

Faults,  as  geologists  call  certain  breaks  in  strata,  show  where 
great  pressure  has  made  the  spring  give  way.  Ten  years  ago 
such  a  fault  occurred  in  the  central  part  of  Japan,  ruining 
large  areas  of  cultivated  land  and  destroying  close  upon  ten 
thousand  lives.  This  disaster  cost  the  Mikado's  government 
£3,000,000.  The  old  chalk  cliffs  at  the  Isle  of  Wight  show 
many  such  faults.  The  stratum  on  which  the  professor's  stable 
stands  crumpled  up  during  that  process  of  slow  compression 
which  formed  the  Alps.  His  instruments  are  independent,  and 
rest  on  blocks  of  stone  that  go  down  into  the  chalk  without 
touching  the  buildings  round  them. 

All  the  earthquake  signatures  from  the  various  parts  of  the 
earth  come  through  this  chalk  —  not  an  ideal  material  for  trans- 
mitting, one  would  think,  but  the  professor  works  with  it  very 
well.  These  signatures  are  in  great  variety,  and  make  inter- 
esting reading,  for  they  show  character  and  tell  much  about 
themselves  and  their  conditions.  The  professor,  of  course,  is  an 
expert  in  their  chirography.  The  number  of  the  small  letters 
in  the  signatures,  for  instance,  which,  as  earthquakes  write,  are 
always  at  the  beginning,  tells  him  how  far  the  quake  has  trav- 
eled, while  the  large  letters,  like  old-fashioned  "  S's,"  tell  of 
the  intensity.  As  he  knows  all  the  "centers"  of  first-rate  im- 
portance—  that  is,  the  places  where  the  great  earthquake  trou- 
bles originate  —  he  can  guess,  with  considerable  likelihood  of 
being  right,  which  center  sent  the  message. 


338  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

For  instance,  there  is  the  Tuscarora  Deep,  which  has  sent  so 
many  fearful  tidal  waves  against  Japan^s  east  coast;  another, 
off  the  coast  of  Ecuador,  which  has  done  great  damage  in  its 
time,  and  has  sent  great  waves  eight  thousand  miles  across  the 
Pacific ;  another  in  the  Bay  of  Bengal ;  still  another,  newly  found 
near  the  Isle  of  Guam,  the  deepest  bottom  known;  one,  also,  in 
the  mid-Atlantic  not  far  north  of  the  equator,  which  made  so 
much  trouble  for  Charleston,  S.  C,  TJ.  S.  A.;  and  one  some- 
where off  the  coast  of  Alaska.  Any  one  of  these  is  fairly  sus- 
picious, for  it  is  ready  to  act  whenever  opportunity  occurs. 

The  instruments,  which  the  professor  has  ready  in  his  stable 
for  automatic  attachment  to  all  able  earthquakes,  are  rather 
simpler  in  appearance  than  one  would  expect,  considering  the 
work  they  do.  They  are  the  result  of  a  score  of  years'  experi- 
menting. The  pen-points  that  do  the  writing  are  fine  hairs  of 
glass  on  the  ends  of  pendulums  which  the  professor  has  ar- 
ranged to  swing  horizontally.  In  the  stable  is  a  seismograph, 
as  he  calls  it,  which  writes  on  a  long  strip  of  paper  covered  with 
lamp-black,  and  in  the  carriage  house  a  camera,  always  ready  to 
photograph  a  quake.  To  obtain  a  truthful  negative  depends  on 
the  pendulum.  A  ray  of  light  is  reflected  from  the  end  of  the 
pendulum,  and  records  automatically  on  a  roll  of  sensitized  pa- 
per which  runs  over  a  pulley  turned  by  clockwork.  When  there 
is  a  quake  the  pendulum  swings,  the  ray  of  light  moves  back 
and  forth,  and  there  is  a  photograph  —  something  that  resem- 
bles a  picture  of  a  distaff  of  the  days  of  spinning-wheels. 

In  the  new  building,  which  is  just  beginning  work,  the  prin- 
cipal object,  as  regards  size,  is  a  lamp-post,  one  that  the  profes- 
sor picked  up  at  a  bargain,  and  put  to  a  purpose  hardly  con- 
templated by  the  man  who  made  it.  This  post  stands  over  in 
the  corner  on  the  same  side  as  the  entrance,  and  serves  as  the 
■  upright  for  the  pendulums.  One  of  the  pendulums  points  south 
and  the  other  west.  They  have  heavy  weights  at  the  end  to  in- 
sure steadiness,  and  glass  pens  for  jotting  down  their  earthquake 
impressions  of  Borneo,  Japan,  Alaska,  and  other  places.  The 
pendulum  pointing  south  writes  with  an  arm  that  runs  along 
parallel  to  the  other  pendulum.  In  this  way  Professor  Milne 
obtains  two  signatures  side  by  side  on  the  revolving  cylinder 
he  uses  for  receiving  records. 

There  is  a  dark  room  in  here,  as  well  as  one  in  the  stable. 


EARTHQUAKE  AUTOGRAPHS  339 

for  general  pliotographic  work.  Besides,  there  are  two  stone 
colnmns  rnnning  down  into  the  chalk  and  free  of  all  connection 
with  the  house.  These  the  professor  will  use  for  those  instru- 
ments that  need  to  be  isolated  from  ordinary  vibrations. 

With  the  instruments  in  his  stable  the  professor  has  shown 
the  earth  to  be  a  strangely  restless  body,  shivering  all  over  every 
thirty  seconds,  and  heaving  up  its  crust  over  thousands  of  square 
miles  of  surface  at  a  time  in  stupendous  sighs  once  in  seven 
days,  taking,  as  it  were,  a  Sunday  afternoon  nap. 

He  has  also  located  many  of  the  centers  from  which  earth- 
quakes emanate,  and  has  shown  that  ninety  per  cent,  of  the 
shocks  in  1899,  for  example,  originated  at  great  depths  beneath 
the  sea.  If  the  knowledge  he  has  accumulated  in  his  studies 
of  earth  vibrations,  quivers,  shakes,  and  undulations  had  been  at 
hand  when  the  cable  companies  laid  out  their  routes  they  could 
have  saved  £800,000  by  avoiding  the  danger  places  Professor 
Milne  has  marked  on  his  charts.  It  is  safe,  too,  to  say  that  en- 
gineers would  have  built  hundreds  of  railways  and  bridges  differ- 
ently if  they  had  had  the  benefit  of  the  latest  researches  in 
earthquake  construction. 

In  shaky  countries  like  Japan  it  would  be  difficult  to  over- 
estimate the  value  of  Professor  Milne^s  deductions.  The  Jap- 
anese Government  appreciates  this,  for  it  long  since  established 
a  chair  of  seismology  in  the  Imperial  University,  and  has  put 
up  some  nine  hundred  stations  for  observing  its  superabundant 
tremors,  and  the  Mikado  has  decorated  the  professor  with  an 
order  of  particular  merit,  making  him  "  Chokunin.^'  The  gov- 
ernment is  now  at  work  on  a  seismic  survey  of  the  empire,  and 
will  publish  as  soon  as  possible  a  map,  colored  variously  ac- 
cording to  quakiness,  dark  for  the  most  unsteady  parts,  and  light 
for  the  parts  that  quake  least.  Other  earthquake  countries  will 
follow  Japan's  example;  thus  has  the  Land  of  the  Eising  Sun, 
though  the  youngest  of  the  Powers,  begun  already  to  teach  her 
teachers. 

Japan  is  rather  responsible  for  seismology  anway.  If  she 
had  not  engaged  Professor  Milne  to  teach  her  geology  and  min- 
ing, he  might  have  spent  his  days  on  firmer  terra,  so  to  speak, 
and  never  have  investigated  earthquakes,  nor  invented  seis- 
.mographs  for  them  to  write  with,  nor  seismo-cameras  to  take 
their  photographs. 


340  :moderx  1N^-ENTI0^'S 

So  it  is  that  in  Sliide,  up  by  the  golf  course  just  on  the 
western  edge  of  Newport,  where  even  the  railways  with  the 
mails  are  not  too  certain,  there  is  a  man  who  can  tell  you  of 
an  earthquake  at  the  antipodes  a  few  minutes  after  it  has  hap- 
pened, and,  what  is  more,  has  taught  others,  in  many  parts  of 
the  world,  to  do  the  same  thing. 

Professor  Milne  receives  reports  through  the  center  of  the 
earth  by  vibrations  that  travel  about  four  hundred  miles  a 
second.  This  means  twenty  minutes  for  the  trip.  Such  a  speed 
shows  the  rigidity  of  the  earth  to  be  greater  than  any  metal  or 
other  substance  scientists  have  knowledge  of  —  "two  and  one- 
half  times  that  of  glass,  for  instance,'^  says  Professor  Milne, 
"  and  glass  is  more  rigid  than  the  finest  steel.^^  This  was  an 
interesting  discovery,  for  it  is  an  indorsement  of  Lord  Kelvin^s 
egg  demonstration. 

Lord  Kelvin  used  to  illustrate  his  idea  of  a  solid  rather  than 
a  liquid  interior  for  the  earth  by  spinning  two  eggs,  one  raw  and 
the  other  hard-boiled.  The  hard-boiled  egg  spun  much  the 
longer  time.  In  fact^  the  raw  egg  wobbled  and  stopped  in  a 
moment.  Would  not  the  earth  have  stopped  spinning  on  its 
axis  long  ago,  and  could  it  possibly  send  earthquake  dispatches 
through  its  very  center,  if  it  were  not  solid  within  ? 

In  reading  the  signatures  of  the  different  earthquakes,  it  is 
interesting  to  compare  the  writings.  The  form  of  a  signature  — 
or  perhaps  it  would  be  more  accurate  to  say  the  form  of  the 
combination  of  signatures  made  by  joining  together  the  one 
that  travels  through  the  earth  with  the  one  that  travels  round 
it  —  gives  a  very  clear  idea  of  the  distance  the  vibrations  have 
traveled.  Take  the  ones  from  Alaska,  for  example.  Professor 
Milne  has  had  many  reports  from  that  far-away  region.  He 
did  not  know,  of  course,  where  the  quake  was  from  until  he  had 
seen  the  record  in  his  stable,  and  had  compared  it  with  signa- 
tures from  other  parts  of  the  world,  but  he  knew  how  far  away 
it  was.  The  other  signatures  that  helped  him  out  came  from 
stations  where  observers  had  set  up  his  seismographs. 

There  are  some  thirty  of  these  statibns  scattered  about  the 
world:  in  North  and  South  America,  Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa. 
Among  those  that  helped  particularly  to  fix  the  locality  of  these 
interesting  shocks  were  Kew,  Toronto,  Victoria  (British  Colum- 


EARTHQUAKE    AUTOGRAPHS 


341 


bia),  San  Fernando  (Spain),  Bombay,  Batavia,  Mauritius,  Mad- 
ras, Calcutta,  and  Cape  of  Good  Hope. 

An  interesting  series  of  signatures  from  an  Alaska  earthquake 
of  September  3,  1899,  showing  records  from  Toronto,  San  Fer- 
nando, Kew,  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  Bombay,  and  Batavia,  may  be 
seen  on  page  345.  This  quake  was  from  a  region  that  has  ex- 
cited a  great  deal  of  interest  lately  —  one  that  the  professor 


Shinobo  Hiroba,  Professor  Milne's  Assistant,  Watching  an  Earthquake 
Write  Its  Signature. 

looks  upon  as  choice  hunting-ground,  albeit  the  "  ground "  is 
miles  below  the  surface  of  the  North  Pacific  Ocean.  Ocean  sur- 
veyors have  not  yet  gone  over  this  region  thoroughly,  but  the 
professor  believes  that  when  they  do  they  will  find  an  enormous 
hole  west  of  Yakutat  Bay. 

There  is  no  telegraph  communication  between  Yakutat  Bay 
and  the  rest  of  the  world,  but  there  is  excellent  seismic  com- 


342  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

munication,  as  the  signatures  show.  Professor  Milne  at  Shide, 
ten  tho.usand  miles  away  from  the  center  of  disturbance,  knew 
about  it  the  day  it  happened.  But  it  was  not  until  September 
25,  a  little  over  three  weeks  later,  that  the  Toronto  World 
had  the  news  of  three  tidal  waves  on  the  coast  of  Alaska.  Walls 
of  water  fifteen  feet  high  rolled  in  upon  the  villages  on  the 
shore  and  well-nigh  obliterated  them.  Islands  sank  many  fath-. 
oms  beneath  the  sea,  so  that  now  only  the  tops  of  their  tallest 
trees  show  above  the  surface.  On  the  Island  of  Kayak,  just  op- 
posite Yakutat,  there  was  a  graveyard,  which  one  may  see 
distinctly  now  down  through  the  clear  water. 

The  ripples  of  the  earth^s  crust  that  brought  these  signatures 
to  Professor  Milne's  seismographs  were  from  a  foot  to  a  foot  and 
a  half  in  height,  and  from  twenty  to  thirty  miles  in  length. 
They  traveled  at  the  rate  of  a  little  under  two  miles  a  second, 
and  came  along  at  intervals  of  about  fifteen  seconds.  These  rip- 
ples show  large  in  the  signatures,  for  they  make  the  horizontal 
arms,  the  pen-holders  of  the  seismographs,  swing  through  a 
wider  interval  than  do  the  more  direct  messages  which  come 
through  the  earth.  The  through  messages  are  of  a  different 
kind  from  the  surface  ripples;  they  are  tremors,  series  of  con- 
tractions and  expansions  of  the  rigid  material  of  the  earth^s 
inside.  In  the  signature  of  an  earthquake  the  distance  from  the 
starting-point  of  the  through  message  to  the  starting-point  of 
the  surface  message  indicates  the  distance  between  the  observa- 
tory and  the  center  of  disturbance. 

In  his  report  on  the  earthquakes  of  1899,  which  the  Eoyal 
Society  Committee  for  Seismological  Investigations  will  publish 
soon.  Professor  Milne,  who  is  secretary  for  the  Committee,  says : 

"  Earthquakes  from  the  same  district  will  arrive  at  distant 
observing-stations  at  times,  the  distance  between  which  will  be 
constant.  If  for  example  we  have  once  determined  the  differ- 
ence in  time  at  which  an  earthquake  originating  off  the  coast  of 
Japan  arrives  at  Batavia,  Bombay,  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  Shide, 
etc.,  whenever  these  differences  are  repeated  at  four  or  more  sta- 
tions, without  knowing  anything  about  observations  in  Japan, 
we  can  at  once  say  where  such  an  earthquake  has  originated. 
.  .  .  If  the  large  waves  of  an  earthquake  reach  stations 
A,  B,  C,  D,  etc.,  the  radii  of  which  are  respectively  four  times 
1.6  degrees,  then  ten  times  1.6  degrees,  twenty  times  1.6  degrees, 


EARTHQUAKE  AUTOGRAPHS  343 

etc.,  will  be  the  center  of  the  origin  required.  The  constant  1.6 
degrees  means  that  the  actual  velocity  for  large  waves  is  taken 
at  1.6  degrees  per  minute,  or  about  three  kilometres  (1.86  miles) 
a  second. 

"  The  operation  of  drawing  these  circles  is  carried  out  on  a 
slate  globe.  For  a  complete  solution,  observations  are  required 
from  at  least  four  stations.  With  only  three  observations  we 
are  left  to  choose  between  two  possible  centers,  but  as  these  may 
be  widely  separated  there  is  usually  little  difficulty  in  selecting 
the  one  required.^^ 

Sometimes  Professor  Milne  receives  the  signature  over  again, 
showing  on  a  smaller  scale  the  preliminary  tremors  that  have 
come  through  the  earth,  the  great  "  shock "  waves  that  have 
traveled  round,  the  huge  surface  ripples,  and  then  the  waves  of 
subsidence.  These  repetitions  he  calls  "  echoes."  The  waves  of 
the  earth-crust  may  rebound  from  some  cliff  or  ledge,  just  as 
ripples  are  reflected  from  the  edge  of  a  pond  back  towards  their 
center  of  the  origin,  or  as  sound  waves  are  reflected  from  a  wall. 

Like  sound  waves,  too,  earthquake  waves  have  rhythm,  har- 
mony and  discord.  Professor  Milne  has  made  use  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  discord  in  securing  the  safety  of  buildings.  He  has 
found  the  "  pitch  "  of  chimneys,  for  instance ;  that  is,  the  period 
of  their  swaying.  He  treated  the  chimney  as  he  would  a  tun- 
ing-fork of  which  he  wished  to  determine  the  frequency  of 
vibration.  In  the  same  way  he  got  the  "pitch"  of  houses. 
Then,  knowing  the  frequency  of  earthquake  vibrations,  he  made 
rules  for  building  chimneys  and  houses  out  of  tune  with  earth- 
quakes. This  prevented  the  house  from  "joining  in."  The 
chimney  and  the  house  must  be  in  harmony,  however,  or  there 
will  be  trouble  in  the  honsehold. 

Professor  Milne  has  had  many  occasions  to  point  this  out  in 
the  various  foreign  communities  he  is  familiar  with  in  earth- 
quake countries.  Often  the  house  has  broken  itself  to  pieces  by 
banging  into  a  chimney  that  was  vibrating  a  diminished  fifth  or 
a  minor  seventh  below.  Even  a  semitone  is  sometimes  fatal, 
as  was  the  case  with  several  chimneys  a  builder  had  bound  with 
iron  bands  to  houses.  When  the  shocks  came  the  bands  cut 
through  the  chimneys  as  if  they  were  made  of  so  much  chalk  in- 
stead of  brick. 

Japanese  architecture  has  received  much  attention  from  the 


344 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


Professor  and  also  from  his  friend  Josiah  Condor/ of  the  In- 
stitute of  British  Architects.  From  the  studies  of  these  experts 
it  would  seem  that  the  statement  that  a  people  know  better  what 
is  best  for  themselves  than  do  outsiders  is  not  absolute  truth, 
for  both  Milne  and  Condor  say  that  the  ordinary  Japanese  house 
is  anything  but  ideal,  from  the  earthquake  view-point,  while 
Japan  is  the  quakiest  country  in  the  world.  The  heavy  roofs  are 
bad.  The  tops  of  things  should  be  light  in  Japan;  but  these 
roofs  are  always  heavy,  and  when  they  get  a-swinging  they  break 
off  and  crush  everything  in  reach.     After  a  bad  earthquake  in 


After  the  Tidal  Wave  Thirty  Thousand  Bodies  Lay  Along  the  Coast  of 

Japan. 

Japan,  the  stricken  district,  as  Professor  Milne  says,  appears  to 
be  strewn  with  gigantic  saddles.  These  are  the  fallen  roofs. 
Again,  it  would  be  far  better  to  tie  rafters  and  beams  and  up- 
rights together  by  iron  bands  than  to  mortise  them.  Mortising 
weakens  the  timbers  and  helps  the  weighty  roof  to  come  to 
earth. 

The  Professor's  investigations  with  his  seismographs  and 
other  instruments  have  been  able  to  show  the  exact  course  of 
an  earthquake  particle  during  a  shock,  and  Professor  Seikiya, 
now  occupying  the  chair  of  seismology  in  the  Imperial  Univer- 


EARTHQUAKE  AUTOGRAPHS  345 

sity  in  Tokio,  to  represent  this  course  has  bent  a  wire.  After 
looking  at  it  one  wonders  how  the  earth  holds  together,  why  it 
does  not  float  off  as  dust  and  lose  itself  in  space.  The  wire 
looks  like  a  matted  tangle  of  yarn. 

In  the  great  Gifu  quake  of  1891  the  earth,  besides  dropping 
twenty  feet  in  sections  of  forty  to  sixty  miles  at  a  time,  shook 
to-and-fro  with  frightful  rapidity  in  quivering  waves  about  a 
foot  in  width.  There  was  an  upward  impetus  to  the  earth 
particles  also,  despite  the  fact  that  the  surface  fell  twenty  feet. 
This  had  a  rate  of  about  four  hundred  feet  a  second.  One 
effect  of  it  was  that  houses  weighted  by  heavy  roofs  sank  up  to 
the  eaves,  and  another,  that  gateposts  without  top  weights,  and 


"•IBimtt^'ii'ift^  •■ 


CAPE  OF  GOOD  HOPE 


" ■'♦^^a»« 


eOMBAV 

HAmmm 


SAN  FERNANDO.  SPAM 


■  Of 


TORONTO.  CANADA. 


Earthquake  Signatures  from  the  Great  Alaska  Shock  of  September  3, 
1899,  Recorded  by  Professor  Milne's  Instruments  in  Different  Parts 
of  the  World. 

therefore  free  to  act,  jumped  about  as  though  playing  leapfrog. 
Some  posts  took  a  half-dozen  jumps  of  four  or  five  feet  along 
the  surface  and  then  fell  in  their  tracks.  Occasionally  one 
alighted  so  hard  after  the  last  jump  that  it  remained  upright 
ten  yards  from  where  it  started,  and  in  property  where  it  had 
no  business  to  be.  A  shock  of  the  fifth  of  the  force  of  the  Gifu 
quake  would  demolish  London  in  thirty  seconds.  Wooden  houses 
in  the  suburbs  might  remain  standing,  however,  for  their  con- 
struction affords  some  play. 

The  Charleston  earthquake  in  1886  was  a  severe  one,  and  sci- 
entirtts  have  estimated  something  of  its  energy.  Professor  Milne 
says,  speaking  roughly,  24,000,000,000,000  foot-pounds  for  an 


346  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

area  ten  miles  square.  To  produce  a  shock  of  such  force,  let 
anyone  drop  a  24,000-ton  ball  from  a  height  of  190  miles. 

Professor  Milne  disclaims  abilit}^  as  an  earthquake  prophet, 
although  he  came  to  have  something  of  a  reputation  in  that  line 
while  in  Japan.  This  was  through  his  having  distributed  earth- 
quake machines  among  his  friends  in  various  parts  of  the  em- 
pire and  asking  them  to  collect  records  for  him.  They  did  so 
gladly,  for  the  Professor's  enthusiasm  was  contagious.  Occa- 
sionally he  would  wire  them  from  his  home  in  Tokio,  saying  he 
had  a  premonition  that  a  quake  was  at  hand  and  warning  them 
to  be  ready  for  it.  As  there  are  five  to  six  hundred  quakes  a  year 
in  Japan,  Professor  Milne  says  it  is  not  strange  that  occasionally 
his  premonitions  were  correct.  On  one  occasion  he  sent  a  mes- 
sage to  some  folk  in  Yokohama  just  in  time.  It  was  in  1881, 
and  for  several  days  the  Tokio  seismographs  had  been  unusually 
quiet.  "  The  calm  before  the  storm,''  thought  the  Professor. 
So  he  sent  his  message,  and  soon  after  it  reached  its  destina- 
tion the  earth  began  to  shake  and  Yokohama  had  more  excite- 
ment on  its  hands  than  it  knew  what  to  do  with.  It  had  not 
quaked  so  in  years.  The  Milne  message  became  famous  and 
every  one  declared  the  Professor  was  genuinely  a  prophet. 

Some  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  he  had  a  personal  influence 
over  earthquakes ;  his  appearance  in  any  locality  was  a  signal 
for  everything  to  shake.  Once,  as  he  arrived  at  the  Fujiya 
Hotel,  Miyanoshita,  a  popular  resort  near  Yokohama,  a  lady 
well  known  in  Yokohama  society  greeted  him  with :  "  Oh, 
Professor  Milne,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you.  You  haven't  any  earth- 
quakes with  you,  have  you  ? "  But,  apparently,  he  had,  for 
there  was  a  lively  one  in  evidence  a  moment  later.  Incidents 
like  these  are  remembered  and  make  a  reputation  for  a  man 
whether  he  wishes  it  or  not,  so  that  of  the  hundreds  of  for- 
eigners Japan  has  in  her  employ  probably  none  has  a  fame  so 
widely  spread  as  "  Earthquake  "  Milne. 

Although  the  seismograph  does  not  foretell  a  quake,  it  can  be 
of  service,  as  the  Professor  points  out,  in  giving  warning  of 
the  tidal  waves  that  often  follow  submarine  earthquakes.  These 
waves,  which  come  in  like  a  tremendously  high  tide,  do  vast 
damage.  On  the  east  shores  of  Japan  in  1896  nearly  thirty 
thousand  persons  perished  in  the  sudden  rising  of  the  waters. 
Vessels  out  at  sea  sailed  over  the  waves  without  any  one  on  board 


EARTHQUAKE    AUTOGRAPHS 


347 


suspecting  something  unusual  was  taking  place.  The  undula- 
tions were  so  broad  and  the  rise  so  gentle  that  there  was  nothing 
to  distinguish  them  from  the  ordinary  surface  of  the  sea.  These 
waves  travel  at  a  rate  that  would  take  them  across  the  Pacific 
in  twenty-four  hours.  This  is  rapid  traveling,  but  a  warning 
which  the  seismograph  could  give  at  the  time  the  wave  started 
would  afford  plenty  of  time  for  coast  dwellers  to  climb  up  out 
of  the  way. 

Near  Iquique  there  is  a  United  States  war  vessel  which  has 
had  a  remarkable  experience  with  tidal  waves.  On  the  first 
occasion,  in  1868,  a  wave  took  her  a  mile  inland,  and  later, 
in  1877,  another  wave  carried  her  in  two  miles  farther,  where 
she  still  remains,  although  the  family  that  has  taken  up  its 


An    Earthquake    Signature    Written   on   a    Circular   Plate   by   the   Fine 
Points  of  the  Seismograph  Fingers. 


abode  in  her  expect  to  get  well  across  the  country  by  the  end 
of  the  present  century. 

In  Australia  there  are  two  earthquake  observatories,  one  at 
Sydney  and. another  at  Melbourne.  It  would  have  been  a  great 
deal  of  money  saved  to  the  colony  if  she  had  had  a  few  of 
Professor  Milne's  instruments  several  years  ago,  when  her 
three  cables  suddenly  ceased  to  work  and  left  her  completely 
shut  off  from  the  world.     There  had  been  rumors  of  war,  and 


348  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

when  the  break  occurred  the  x^ustralians  thought  some  hostile 
power  had  cut  the  cables  and  would  soon  swoop  down  upon  the 
colonies,  the  Governors  called  out  the  Militia  and  the  Naval  Ee- 
serves  to  patrol  the  coast,  and  there  was  great  excitement  for 
nearly  three  weeks.  Business  was  at  a  standstill  until  news 
came  that  it  was  only  an  earthquake,  which  had  lowered  the 
ocean's  bottom,  making  the  sea  between  Java  and  Australia  deep- 
er by  many  fathoms.  The  floor  of  the  sea  had  taken  down  the 
cables  along  with  it. 

Professor  Milne  believes,  from  the  experience  he  has  had,  that 
seismology  will  gain  support  from  governments,  from  the  great 
cable  companies  interested  in  learning  the  location  of  unstable 
regions  in  sea  beds,  and  from  private  individuals  who  wish 
to  advance  scientific  knowledge.  Certainly  its  practical  bene- 
fits are  very  obvious,  and  as  a  scientific  pursuit  there  are  few 
lines  of  investigation  more  fascinating. 


HINTS  TO  INVENTORS  349 


HINTS  TO  INVENTORS. 

By  FRANCIS  F.   COLEMAN. 

WHAT  the  inventor  has  done  is  marvelous  enough;  but, 
from  our  present  standpoint,  what  he  has  not  done  is 
even  more  extraordinary.  A  glance  at  the  problems 
still  unsolved  can  hardly  fail  to  fire  the  imagination. 

First  of  all  are  the  transportation  improvements  for  which 
the  world  is  waiting.  Trains  and  ships  which  were  marvels  for 
speed  a  generation  ago  are  hardly  satisfactory  for  freights  to-day, 
and  our  longings  to  annihilate  space  are  the  foundations  of 
present  efforts  to  build  the  flying  machine.  As  the  post-chaise 
speed  of  a  century  ago  gave  way  to  that  of  the  sixty-mile-an-hour 
express  train,  so  must  this  speed  give  way  to  the  demands  of  a 
new  century.  We  want  Europe  within  two  and  one-half  days' 
and  San  Francisco  only  one  and  one-half  days'  journey  away. 

Probably  nothing  has  stood  more  in  the  way  of  such  attain- 
ments than  the  absence  of  a  true  rotary  steam-engine.  With 
road-beds  such  as  modern  engineering  has  provided  for  our  rail- 
roads, rails  of  steel,  and  smooth-running  cars,  there  would  seem 
to  be  almost  no  limit  to  the  speed  at  which  trains  might  be  run 
with  safety,  but  for  the  vibrations  produced  by  the  oscillating 
steam-engine.  Although  skilful  mechanics  have  balanced  these 
moving  parts  as  perfectly  as  was  possible,  the "  locomotive  en- 
gineer will  tell  you  that  long  before  his  engine  reaches  a  speed 
of  a  hundred  miles  an  hour,  its  great  mass  is  in  a  quiver  from 
end  to  end  and  ready  to  fly  from  the  tracks  upon  the  slightest 
occasion.  On  high-speed  steamships  the  vibrations  of  the  en- 
gines are  not  only  a  source  of  great  discomfort  to  passengers, 
but  threaten  the  strength  of  the  vessel  itself.  Although  the 
inventor's  quest  for  it  has  been  long  and  arduous,  the  practicable 
rotary  steam-engine  still  remains  as  "uninvented  invention." 
The  nearest  approach  to  a  solution  is  that  offered  by  the  steam 
turbine,  and  the  use  for  that  must  be  limited. 


350  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

A  true  rotary  engine  has,  however,  been  found  in  the  electric 
motor.  In  the  electric  generator  and  motor  are  combined  the 
two  requisites  for  the  ideal  production  and  transformation  of 
power.  Not  only  are  they  capable  of  perfect  balance  and  run- 
ning without  vibration,  but  they  do  away  with  the  greater  part 
of  the  loss  of  energy  for  which  the  steam-engine  is  notorious. 

Here,  then,  is  the  means  at  hand  for  the  inventor  to  meet 
the  wants  of  modern  traffic,  while  sticking  close  to  earth  and 
avoiding  the  dangers  of  "lighting,"  which  must  always  attend 
every  attempt  to  fly. 

Electric  cars  have  already  attained  speeds  near  to  the  one- 
hundred-miles-an-hour  mark  in  safety,  and  it  has  been  an- 
nounced recently  that  the  German  Emperor  has  authorized  the 
building  of  a  road  whereon  it  is  intended  that  trains  shall  run 
at  a  speed  of  one  hundred  and  fifty-five  miles  an  hour.  Air-ship 
traffic  would  find  it  hard  to  compete  with  this. 

Eailroading  has  already  been  a  prolific  source  of  profit  to  the 
inventor,  but  before  speeds  materially  higher  than  those  now 
used  can  be  generally  adopted,  he  must  be  called  upon  to  again 
improve  the  railroad  in  its  every  member.  The  rail  joint  must 
either  be  abolished  altogether,  making  the  lines  continuous  by 
welded  joints,  as  is  done  in  the  best  street-railway  practice,  or 
a  mechanical  joint  better  than  any  yet  made  must  be  invented. 
But  more  important  than  all  will  be  the  methods  of  preventing 
collisions  while  dispatching  trains  at  short  intervals.  Since  elec- 
tricity will  be  the  motive  power,  it  is  possible  that  this  may  be 
so  applied  as  to  make  it  impossible  for  two  trains  to  be  run 
into  each  other  even  by  intent.  When  one  train  approaches 
another  within  a  given  distance  its  power  could  be  cut  off  auto- 
matically, and  if  it  ran  within  another  given  distance  the  power 
could  be  reversed  and  brakes  set. 

Nothing  must  be  left  to  chance  when  trains  are  flying  along 
at  a  rate  of  more  than  225  feet  a  second.  Safety  and  economy 
must  both  be  achieved,  but  there  are  also  riches  and  honor  to 
be  won  in  that  field. 

Mr.  Charles  H.  Parsons,  of  Great  Britain,  whose  experimental 
boat,  Turbinia,  demonstrated  the  successful  appliance  of  the 
steam  turbine  to  the  propulsion  of  vessels,  has  promised  to  build 
a  ship  to  make  fifty  miles  an  hour  whenever  capitalists  come 
forward  to  pay  for  her  —  and  his  torpedo-boat  catchers,  built 


HINTS  TO  INVENTORS  351 

for  the  British.  Government,  have  shown  his  ability  to  keep  his 
promise.  Others  have  planned  vessels  to  be  driven  by  electric 
motors  with  power  derived  from  vapor  engines.  This  field  offers 
as  great  promise  to  the  inventor  as  the  other.  With  ocean  grey- 
hounds making  railroad  speed  over  the  face  of  the  ocean,  it  is 
hardly  probable  that  passengers  could  be  persuaded  to  ride  be- 
neath the  surface. 

While  certain  inventors  are  achieving  success  in  equipping 
railroads,  ships,  and  factories  with  machinery  to  meet  the  de- 
mands of  an  exacting  age,  others  bend  their  energies  to  solving 
the  still  more  important  problem  of  economizing  coal  or  finding 
new  sources  of  power. 

Coal  is  King  to-day.  Whether  we  use  steam  engines,  electric 
engines,  gas-engines,  compressed-air  engines,  or  others  to  drive 
the  wheels  of  industry,  the  one  great  source  of  energy  is  coal. 

Five  hundred  million  tons  of  coal  a  year  are  mined  and  trans- 
ported to  keep  the  world's  furnaces  aglow.  Allowing  for  the 
usual  waste  in  mining,  this  means  a  solid  mass  of  coal  that  meas- 
ures half  a  mile  in  length,  breadth,  and  thickness.  One  hun- 
dred thousand  men  worked  thirty  years,  it  is  estimated,  to  build 
the  pyramid  of  Cheops;  and  yet  the  annual  output  of  coal  is 
equal  in  bulk  to  two  hundred  such  pyramids ! 

Under  the  best  conditions,  we  waste  six-sevenths  of  the  heat 
value  of  this  fuel,  and  it  may  fairly  be  estimated  that  in  general 
practice  hardly  the  fifteenth  part  of  its  value  is  realized  for  ac- 
tual work. 

Here,  then,  is  a  field  for  the  genius  of  the  inventor  wide 
enough  to  satisfy  the  most  ambitious.  First,  the  task  is  to  draw 
from  coal  something  like  its  real  value  in  work,  and  next  to  find 
a  substitute  to  provide  against  the  time  when -the  store-houses 
of  coal,  petroleum,  natural  gas,  and  other  fuels  shall  be  emptied. 
Thomas  A.  Edison,  whose  achievements  in  applied  science  have 
left  him  without  a  peer,  and  Mkola  Tesla,  the  great  necro- 
mancer in  the  field  of  electricity,  have  set  for  themselves  the 
task  of  solving  this  problem,  and  mighty  men  of  science  in 
Europe  are  working  toward  the  same  end.  Mr.  Edison^s  aim  is 
to  find  a  way  toward  greater  economy  in  the  use  of  fuel.  A 
bucketful  of  coal,  he  has  declared,  should  drive  an  express  train 
from  New  York  to  Philadelphia,  and  a  few  tons  be  sufficient  for 


352  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

the  ocean  steamship,  where  now  her  bunkers  must  hold  thou- 
sands. 

That  there  is  hope  for  those  who  seek  higher  economies  in 
the  direct  use  of  fuel  is  evidenced  by  advances  already  made. 
The  boiler  and  steam-engine  of  a  century  ago,  at  its  best,  was 
capable  of  giving  back  but  six  per  cent,  of  the  energy  of  the 
coal,  while  to-day  they  return  fourteen  per  cent.,  and  coal  turned 
into  fuel-gases  promises  to  give  still  higher  results,  when  used 
through  the  medium  of  gas-engines,  than  can  be  had  by  turning 
its  heat  into  steam. 

Something  of  what  we  should  be  able  to  accomplish  is  indi- 
cated by  figures. 

In  every  pound  of  coal  resides  an  energy  which  scientists 
express  in  heat  units,  each  of  which  is  capable  of  lifting  772 
pounds  one  foot  high.  An  average  quality  of  coal  contains 
14,000  heat  units,  representing  in  round  numbers  10,000,000 
foot-pounds  of  energy.  What  work  a  pound  of  coal  should  do 
may  be  judged  by  comparing  these  figures  with  those  which 
represent  the  labor  of  man  and  of  a  horse. 
-  A  hod-carrier,  making  his  weary  trips  with  brick  and  mortar, 
climbing  stairs  or  a  ladder,  will  in  a  day  of  ten  hours  exert 
2,088,000  foot-pounds.  One  pound  of  coal  burned  under  perfect 
conditions  would  do  five  times  as  much  work. 

A  horse  drawing  a  cart  or  plough  expends  12,441,600  foot- 
pounds in  the  course  of  a  day's  work.  The  burning  of  one  and 
one-quarter  pounds  of  coal  should  do  as  much.  The  theoretical 
horse-power  equals  for  ten  hours  but  the  proper  consumption  of 
1.98  pounds  of  coal,  and  yet  the  best  results  secured  in  the 
largest  steam  plants  still  require  the  burning  of  one  and  one-half 
pounds  of  coal  per  hour  for  each  horse-power  produced. 

Now^  apply  fhe  same  figures  to  a  great  steamer  like  the 
Kaiser  Wilhelm  der  Grosse,  which  uses  30,000  horse-power  to 
drive  her  across  the  Atlantic.  She  uses  but  about  one  and  one- 
half  pounds  of  coal  per  horse-power  an  hour.  At  that  rate  a 
five-and-one-half-day  trip  requires  the  burning  of  2,870  tons  of 
fuel.  Nearly  2,500  tons  of  this  might  be  saved  if  the  theoretical 
value  of  the  coal  could  be  secured. 

Here  is  a  wide  margin  to  be  cut  down,  and  every  step  in  the 
right  direction  is  certain  to  bring  fortune  to  the  inventor. 

Two  general  methods  for  securing  in  power  the  higher  values 


HINTS  TO  INVENTORS  353 

of  coal  have  been  suggested.  One  is  to  get  perfect  combustion 
under  circumstances  where  no  heat  shall  be  lost  up  the  chimney 
or  by  radiation,  and  the  other  is  to  turn  the  fuel  into  electrical 
energy  directly  through  the  medium  of  some  sort  of  a  voltaic 
cell  or  battery. 

Mr.  Edison  has  taken  up  both  ideas,  and  recently  he  described 
a  mechanical  device  which  he  had  designed  in  the  former  direc- 
tion. He  acknowledges  that  the  idea  came  from  using  a  German 
foot-warmer. 

Mr.  Edison's  device  consists  of  a  double-walled  furnace,  be- 
tween the  walls  of  which  compressed  air  is  fed.  Enough  of  this 
air  is  allowed  to  enter  the  inner  enclosure  to  insure  the  com- 
bustion of  fuel  fed  therein.  The  compressed  air,  absorbing  heat 
from  the  burning  fuel,  expands  and  gives  out  its  power  through 
an  engine,  and  this  power  is  added  to  by  the  gases  of  combustion 
which  join  the  air  on  its  way  to  the  engine.  Mr.  Edison  de- 
clares that  a  loss  of  only  about  two  per  cent,  of  heat  occurs  in 
the  apparatus. 

Little  progress  has  been  made  in  the  attempt  to  use  coal  as  the 
active  agent  in  the  voltaic  cell.  Carbon  shows  little  disposition 
to  combine  with  oxygen  except  when  heated,  and  then  it  prefers 
to  burn  in  the  ordinary  way  to  being  consumed  in  any  sort  of 
battery  cell.  Hot  cells  and  cold  cells  have  been  tried.  Cold 
cells  have  been  definitely  abandoned,  and  hot  ones  have  given 
results  not  very  encouraging. 

Mechanical  stokers  have  done  much  to  economize  coal,  and 
invention  is  now  busy  trying  to  find  a  practicable  way  of  feeding 
coal  to  the  fires  in  a  fine  powder  so  as  to  secure  perfect  combus- 
tion without  an  excess  of  air. 

But  Tesla  asks :  Why  should  mankind  use  coal  at  all  ?  John 
Ericsson  long  ago  sought  emancipation  from  the  black  king 
through  a  solar  engine,  and  it  was  he  also  who  led  the  way  to 
the  gas  and  motor  engines,  through  the  invention  of  the  hot- 
air  engine. 

Tesla,  however,  would  break  away  from  fuel  entirely.  Through- 
out the  earth  are  waterfalls,  great  and  small,  fed  by  waters 
sucked  up  by  the  sun's  power,  transported  by  the  winds,  and 
dropped  on  mountains  and  uplands,  ready  to  give  back  the  force 
which  lifted  them,  in  their  descent  to  the  sea. 

Harness  the  waterfalls  of  the  world  by  electricity,  and  make 
23 


354  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

them  do  your  work,  Tesla  says;  and  already  his  discovery  has 
set  Niagara  to  driving  the  wheels  of  industry  in  Buffalo,  and 
for  use  in  cities  far  away.  Waterfalls  over  many  parts  of  the 
earth  are  being  put  to  similar  work. 

Were  these  great  water-powers  situated  where  their  energies 
are  needed,  the  problem  of  using  them  would  be  simple.  Then 
it  would  be  a  matter  of  mere  cost.  A  ten-hour-a-day  horse-power 
in  the  world^s  market  is  worth  $20  a  year.  Hidden  in  the 
broken  fastnesses  of  mountainous  countries,  far  away  from 
towns,  are,  however,  many  of  the  best  water-powers,  and  these 
are  useless  unless  their  energies  can  be  gathered  up  and  trans- 
mitted with  economy  for  long  distances. 

Using  high  voltages,  electric  lines  are  now  built  which  convey 
hundreds  of  horse-power  over  wires  hardly  bigger  than  those  of 
a  long-distance  telephone  line,  and  many  more  are  projected. 

But  although  some  of  these  lines .  are  a  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  long,  they  do  not  yet  fill  the  measure  of  Mr.  Tesla^s 
dream. 

"  I  must  send  these  energies  hundreds,  nay,  thousands  of 
miles,^'  he  has  said,  "  and  direct  them  at  will.  Wires  are  use- 
ful, but  I  must  do  this  without  wires.  Then  will  the  power  of 
the  sun  do  the  world^s  work." 

Mr.  Tesla  has  already  announced  the  discovery  of  a  system 
by  which  to  accomplish  the  transmission  of  electric  power 
through  the  air,  and  without  wires,  but  until  he  proves  his 
theories  by  demonstration,  the  problem  may  still  be  counted  as 
among  the  "unin vented  inventions."  Even  when  he  makes  the 
demonstration,  it  will  merely  open  up  a  wider  field  to  the  gen- 
eral inventor. 

Closely  allied  to  the  transmission  of  power  without  wires  is 
the  ever-interesting  subject  of  telegraphing  and  telephoning  with- 
out wires.  Here  is  a  field  which  should  be  prolific  of  new  inven- 
tions. What  Mr.  Marconi  has  accomplished  is  but  a  beginning, 
and  already  the  air  is  full  of  rumors  of  more  wonderful  inven- 
tions to  come.     This  field  is  open  to  all  comers. 

One  who  has  stood  in  Mr.  Tesla's  laboratory,  and  seen  a 
vacuum  tube  glow  like  sunlight  when  held  only  in  the  great 
electrician's  hand,  knows  that  the  problem  of  producing  light 
without  heat  is  nearly  solved,  but  before  those  glowing  tubes 


HINTS  TO  INVENTORS  355 

can  take  the  place  of  ordinary  lights  for  home  and  shop,  inven- 
tion must  be  busy. 

Looking  upon  those  glowing  tubes,  and  realizing  that  the  light 
within  is  caused  by  clashing  billions  of  electrified  atoms,  and 
then  realizing  that  the  X-ray  which  reveals  our  very  bones  is  but 
another  manifestation  of  like  power,  we  find  ourselves  at  the 
entrance  of  a  new  world,  where  science  is  merely  treading  the 
threshold. 

Eontgen  himself,  though  the  discoverer  of  the  mysterious  rays 
that  bear  his  name,  called  them  X-rays  because  they  represent 
a  mysterious  quantity  in  science. 

Becquerel  has  since  discovered  that  many  natural  substances 
emit  rays  like  those  of  Eontgen,  which  make  photographs  in  the 
dark  and  act  as  well  through  wood  or  metals.  Thorium, 
uranium,  bismuth,  and  barium,  in  various  compounds,  have  been 
proved  to  have  this  quality,  and  they  are  also  capable  of  exciting 
the  phosphorescent  screen  used  to  render  visible  the  disclosures 
of  the  X-rays.  Here,  then,  is  a  suggestion  of  a  new  force  more 
subtle  than  electricity,  and  perhaps  destined  to  open  to  man 
fields  hitherto  not  even  dreamed  of. 

The  witchery  of  modern  science  reached  its  highest  point  when 
it  produced  the  telephone,  which  challenges  the  w^onder  of  even 
those  who  use  it  daily.  -  Yet,  if  appearances  are  not  deceiving, 
the  day  is  not  far  distant  when,  with  instruments  not  so  very 
different,  we  may  see  the  friend  a  thousand  miles  away  with 
whom  we  talk,  or  even  photograph  the  scenes  around  him.  Here 
is  a  field  for  the  coming  inventor  which  offers  virgin  soil.  How 
it  is  to  be  conquered  has  only  been  remotely  suggested. 

Perhaps  every  substance  in  Xature  emanates  its  own  peculiar 
rays,  and  each  of  these  may  be  able  to  make  itself  manifest  on 
delicate  instruments.  Or  perhaps  the  instrument  for  seeing  afar 
may  be  made  upon  the  principle  that  each  color  of  light  has  its 
own  effect,  which  may  be  caught  on  electrical  conductors  and 
transmitted  afar,  where  each  varied  impulse  may  be  sorted  out 
like  those  of  the  quadruple  telegraph,  and  made  to  reproduce 
its  source  in  picture  form.  It  was  such  an  instrument  which  a 
Polish  inventor  promised  to  exhibit  at  the  Paris  Exposition,  but 
he  failed  to  keep  his  promise. 

These,  however,  are  speculations.  Returning  to  the  practical 
field,  there  is  one  invention  still  waiting  for  the  right  man,  which 


356  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

transcends  in  human  importance  all  the  others.  To  the  man  who 
solves  this  problem  the  world  will  owe  wealth  and  honors  such 
as  no  man  yet  has  earned.  It  is  the  problem  of  restoring  fertility 
to  the  worn-out  fields  of  the  world. 

Perhaps  when  China's  doors  are  thrown  open  the  western 
world  may  learn  from  her  valuable  lessons  as  to  how  a  teeming 
population  can  be  fed  for  thousands  of  years  without  exhausting 
the  soil.  We  may  also  get  some  lessons  as  to  how  a  vast  people 
can  be  governed  solely  through  the  power  of  philosophical  teach- 
ings. 

Western  civilization,  pushing  ever  into  new  lands,  has  left 
behind  it  a  sterility  of  soil  which,  within  a  few  years,  has 
brought  from  the  keenest  scientific  observers  a  most  serious  note 
of  warning.  A  day  of  reckoning  is  almost  at  hand,  when  the 
earth  will  no  longer  be  able  to  feed  the  people.  There  is  no 
help  to  be  had  through  farther  pushing  onward,  for,  vast  as 
seem  the  parts  of  the  earth  yet  unsettled,  it  is  declared  that  in 
all  that  area  there  is  little  land  which  can  profitably  be  brought 
under  the  dominion  of  the  plough.  For  the  older  fields,  which 
must  be  our  dependence,  one  thing  alone,  the  agricultural  chem- 
ists declare,  is  necessary  to  bring  them  back  to  fertility.  This 
is  fixed  nitrogen. 

Vast  fortunes  have  already  been  reaped  by  the  "  Nitrate 
Kings "  of  England  from  the  nitrate  deposits  in  Peru,  and 
nations  have  warred  for  the  possession  of  these  fields. 

Nitrogen  is  one  of  the  most  plentiful  of  elementary  gases,  but 
it  is  also  one  of  the  most  difficult  to  fix.  Spread  about  the  whole 
world,  forming  three-quarters,  by  bulk  and  weight,  of  the  atmos- 
phere, it  challenges  man  to  bring  it  under  subjection.  The 
form  in  which  the  agriculturist  most  needs  nitrogen  is  as  sul- 
phate of  ammonia.  Nature,  through  her  mysterious  processes, 
forms  ammonia,  which,  floating  about  in  the  air,  is  gathered  up 
by  nitric  acid  formed  by  lightning  flashes  and  carried  in  reviv- 
ing showers  to  the  earth,  but  this  quantity  is  not  sufficient  to 
replace  the  drain  upon  cultivated  fields. 

Eecent  agricultural  experiments  have  shown  that  about  the 
roots  of  clover  and  other  leguminous  plants  there  gather  colonies 
of  microbes  which  feed  the  plants  with  nitrogen,  and  methods 
for   restoring   and   maintaining   fertility  have   been   suggested 


HINTS  TO  INVENTORS  357 

through  cultivating  these  colonies.  This  field  is  now  being  ex- 
plored. 

Man,  however,  must  have  food,  and  his  yearning  stomach 
cannot  wait.  His  safety  lies  in  securing  by  artificial  means  an 
adequate  supply  of  ammonia.  Gas-houses,  making  illuminating- 
gas  from  coal,  are  the  principal  sources  of  commercial  ammonia, 
but  the  supply  is  so  limited  that  the  farmer  can  ill  afford  to  buy. 

Many  ambitious  attempts  have  been  made  to  catch  the  flirta- 
tious nitrogen  of  the  air  and  turn  it  to  commercial  use.  One  of 
these,  carried  on  at  great  expense  and  with  persistence,  was  con- 
ducted within  recent  years  under  the  leadership  of  William  H. 
Bauldin,  Jr.,  formerly  of  Baltimore.  Success  seemed  almost 
assured,  when  an  explosion  in  the  works  ended  the  life  of  their 
chief  engineer,  the  late  George  H.  Sellers,  of  Philadelphia,  leav- 
ing the  problem  still  unsolved. 

Fame,  as  well  as  wealth,  will  be  the  reward  of  every  man  who 
helps  the  world  a  step  forward  in  solving  the  problems  outlined 
above,  but  the  inventor  who  seeks  money  chiefly  may  gather  it 
more  easily  through  simpler  tasks. 

Lighten  the  labor  of  the  housewife  or  the  workman  even  by 
a  trifle,  or  make  a  toy  which  tickles  the  fancy  of  an  idle  hour, 
and  the  world  will  pour  gold  into  your  coflers  in  a  Midas  stream. 
One  cent  drawn  from  each  of  seventy-five  million  persons  makes 
three-quarters  of  a  million  dollars. 

A  cool-handled  stove-lifter,  a  hook  and  eye  with  a  hump  or  a 
spring,  a  shoe-lace  fastener,  a  crook  in  a  hair-pin,  a  glove  fast- 
ener, "  Pigs  in  Clover,^'  the  "  Fifteen  Puzzle,^^  the  return  rub- 
ber-ball, CrandalFs  building  blocks,  the  copper  shoe-tip,  are  each 
examples  of  the  success  of  little  things,  and  no  day  passes  that 
some  new  novelty  might  not  be  added  to  the  list.  Some  were 
the  results  of  study,  but  more  the  outcome  of  an  inventive  mind 
trying  to  meet  a  present  want.  It  was  merely  a  lazy  boy  who 
wanted  time  to  play  who  put  the  first  automatic  valve  gear  on 
a  steam  engine  and  revolutionized  the  earlier  practice  of  steam 
engineering. 

Every  home  and  workshop  teems  with  profitable  suggestions 
to  the  man  with  open  eyes  and  mind. 

The  fortunes  of  Mr.  Carnegie,  the  Rockefellers,  the  Armours, 
and  all  their  associates  were  founded  on  just  such  observations. 
The  cost  of  refining  kerosene  oil  is  paid  to-day  from  the  despised 


358  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

sludge  acid  which  used  to  foul  our  rivers  and  harbors.  The  old 
waste  of  the  slaughter-houses  brings  in  as  much  to-day  .as  the 
flesh  of  the  animals  killed. 

Nature  has  waste  products  still  waiting  for  use.  Prairie 
wire-grass  was  one  of  these.  It  is  now  made  into  handsome 
furniture  and  furnishings.  Corn-stalk  pith  is  made  into  fill- 
ings for  war-ships^  hulls,  to  close  water-tight  the  holes  made  by 
an  enemy. 

Find  a  substitute  for  the  elastic  Para  rubber,  and  your  for- 
tune is  made.  Celluloid  and  oxidized  linseed  oil  are  fair  sub- 
stitutes for  some  purposes,  but  nothing  has  yet  been  found  that 
possesses  the  true  elastic  properties  of  rubber  from  Para.  There 
is  still  "nothing  like  leather ^^  for  shoes,  but  the  inventor  may 
find  a  substitute  to  his  profit. 

The  automobilist  is  waiting  anxiously  for  a  satisfactory 
power  to  drive  his  carriage.  The  same  power  would  solve  the 
vexed  question  of  cross-town  cars  in  'New  York.  The  Metro- 
politan Street  Eailway  Company  is  spending  thousands  in  ex- 
perimenting with  compressed  air  and  storage  battery  cells,  but 
these  are  only  makeshifts.  Steam  railroads  need  a  similar 
power  to  operate  independent  cars  for  suburban  service. 

Liquid  air  and  acetjdene  gas  both  offer  new  fields  for  the 
inventor.  Although  liquid  air  can  be  made  for  perhaps  five 
cents  a  gallon,  as  yet  not  a  single  commercial  use  has  been 
found  for  it.  Mr.  Pictet,  of  Geneva,  a  pioneer  in  the  liquefy- 
ing of  gases,  has  proposed  to  use  the  process  for  separating  the 
nitrogen  and  oxygen  of  the  air,  and  marketing  each  of  these 
for  special  purposes.  A  factory  in  ISTew  York  has  the  same 
objects  in  view.  Carbonic-acid  gas,  frozen  out  of  the  atmos- 
phere, would  also  be  a  product  of  the  process. 

In  the  heat  of  the  electric  furnace,  lime  and  coal  combine 
to  form  calcium  carbide.  This,  slacked  with  water,  resolves 
itself  into  lime  and  acetylene  gas.  Acet3dene  is  one  of  the  most 
fascinating  of  illuminants.  Its  flame,  composed  almost  entirely 
of  purple  rays,  glows  white  to  the  eye,  and  is  many  times  as 
brilliant  as  that  of  street  gas.  Yet  no  way  has  been  found  to 
make  it  available  for  general  lighting.  It  is  used  in  isolated 
plants,  but  better  appliances  are  still  needed  to  render  it  safe 
and  satisfactory. 

Mr.  Wilson,  at  his  old  mill  in  Virginia,  made  calcium  car- 


HINTS  TO  INVENTORS  359 

bide  by  accident^,  and  discovered  it  only  when  a  piece,  kicked 
into  the  stream,  began  to  bubble  furiously. 

G-as-makers  paid  him  half  a  million  dollars  for  his  patents, 
believing  that  actylene  could  be  used  as  a  substitute  for  naphtha 
as  an  enricher  for  water-gas.  They  were  disappointed.  There 
are  millions  still  waiting  for  the  man  who  finds  the  needed  sub- 
stitute. Water-gas  costs  only  about  six  cents  a  thousand  cubic 
feet  to  manufacture,  but  until  it  is  enriched  by  hydrocarbons  it 
gives  no  light.  Four  to  six  gallons  of  naphtha  to  the  thousand 
feet  is  cooked  into  it  to  make  it  an  illuminant.  ISTaphtha  costs 
about  six  cents  a  gallon. 

When  the  inventor  has  successfully  solved  the  problems  to 
which  attention  has  herein  been  directed,  and  met  each  of  the 
other  demands  of  the  day,  he  will  but  have  broadened  out  his 
own  field  of  labor. 

Each  new  invention  calls  at  once  for  more.  The  gas  range, 
which  has  only  just  forced  recognition  for  itself  as  a  household 
necessity,  cries  out  for  the  invention  of  proper  utensils  to  use 
upon  it. 

Asphalt  streets  have  set  new  tasks  for  the  inventor.  He  must 
make  new  types  of  shoes  to  give  easy  and  secure  footing  for 
horses,  and  new  street-cleaning  apparatus.  With  rougher  pave- 
ments we  were  satisfied  to  get  rid  of  the  coarser  dirt  from  the 
uneven  surface,  but  now  we  are  demanding  apparatus  that  will 
rid  our  streets  of  dust  as  well. 

Invention  has  entered  intimately  into  every  feature  or  our 
lives.  From  fabrics  and  foods  every  article  in  our  stores  shows 
the  work  of  inventive  genius,  and  suggests  the  possibility  of 
further  improvements.  The  grocer  finds  more-  than  sixty  per 
cent,  of  his  wares  all  weighed,  measured,  and  put  up  in  pack- 
ages for  him,  and  the  butcher,  the  baker,  and  greeengrocer  each 
pay  tribute  to  the  inventor  for  conveniences  which  a  few  years 
ago  were  unthought  of. 

Upon  such  foundations  the  inventor  of  the  future  is  to  build, 
and  the  handsome  fortunes  which  have  rewarded  those  whose 
work  is  now  before  him  give  most  solid  assurance  that  his 
reward  will  be  sure. 

His  field  has  no  boundaries.  Every  forward  step  discloses 
new  possibilities.  The  things  which  we  use  to-day  as  if  we  had 
always  had    them,   were  unthought  of   a   generation   ago,   and 


360  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

within   another   generation   inventive   talent   will   undoubtedly 
exploit  still  other  realms  of  which  we  do  not  even  dream. 

"  There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  Horatio, 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy." 


LOUIS  PASTEUR. 


LOUIS  PASTEUR  AND  HIS  WORK  361 


LOUIS  PASTEUR  AND  HIS  WORK. 

By  PATRICK  GEDDES  AND  J.  ARTHUR  THOMSON. 

THOUGH  there  are  kindly  and  thoughtful  folk  lo  whom 
the  name  of  Pasteur  has  been  a  lifelong  "  red  Tag/'  and  to 
whom  it  is  a  principle  fixedly  to  oppose  all  that  is 
tainted  with  vivisection  or  inoculation,  even  they  must  allow, 
if  they  take  fair  account  of  Pasteur^s  life  and  labors,  that  he  was 
not  always  vivisecting  or  inoculating,  that  much  of  his  work 
had  nothing  to  do  with  either  of  these  unpleasant  operations, 
and  that  he  has,  apart  from  debated  questions,  done  much  to 
make  the  world  richer  and  happier.  We  should  ourselves  be 
more  enthusiastic,  and  shall  be;  but  we  make  this  initial  recog- 
nition of  possible  dissent,  from  a  conviction  that  it  is  neither 
trivial  nor  simply  dealt  with.  ISTor,  indeed,  can  it  be  dealt  with 
at  all  until  the  two  parties  take  somewhat  greater  pains  to 
understand  one  another. 

To  many  a  creative  genius  —  poet,  painter,  musician,  or  in- 
ventor —  death  comes  as  an  absolute  full  stop,  as  far  as  the 
continuity  of  his  work  is  concerned.  There  may  be  immortal- 
ity, but  not  continuance.  It  is  otherwise,  however,  in  the  rarer 
cases  of  those  to  whose  beneficent  life  is  given  the  supreme  frui- 
tion that  it  shall  in  a  real  sense  continue  after  the  individual  has 
ceased  to  be.  This  reward  is  Pasteur's.  For  though  he  could 
not,  of  course,  wholly  throw  his  mantle  over  his  school,  endow- 
ing them  with  all  his  insight,  practical  sense  and  experimental 
genius,  he  had,  years  before  his  death,  given  them  the  keys 
with  which  he  had  himself  opened  so  many  doors.  Discover  the 
secret  of  tartrate  fermentation,  and  the  elucidation  of  a  dozen 
others  is  but  a  matter  of  patience;  overcome  the  silkworm 
disease,  and  some  day  diphtheria  will  be  added  to  the  list  of 
solved  problems;  inoculate  for  splenic  fever,  and  the  cure  of 
tuberculosis  comes  within  sight.  Though  Pasteur  is  dead,  his 
life  thus  continues. 


S62  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

It  has  been  given  to  few  to  make  so  many  discoveries  of 
practical  importance,  after  any  one  of  which  it  might  have  been 
said  he  has  deserved  well  of  his  country  and  paid  his  debt  to 
mankind.  He  reformed  the  practice  of  vinegar-making  and 
brewing,  cured  wine  of  its  disorders,  saved  the  silk  industry  not 
of  France  alone  but  of  Europe,  and  showed  how  to  drive  out  or 
to  tame  the  germs  of  some  of  the  most  formidable  diseases.  But 
from  the  first,  when  he  studied  tartrates,  to  the  last,  when  he 
wrestled  with  hydrophobia,  his  labors  had  two  aspects  —  prac- 
tical importance  and  speculative  interest;  and  while  we  recog- 
nize that  no  man  of  science  has  been  of  greater  economic  serv- 
ice to  his  country,  we  must  not  forget  how  he  changed  the 
whole  theory  of  fermentation,  and  played  at  least  an  important 
part  in  establishing  the  germ  theory  of  disease. 

Pasteur  was  born  (December  27,  1822)  in  the  Eue  des  Tan- 
neurs  of  the  little  town  of  Dole,  in  the  Jura.  His  father  had 
been  a  soldier,  decorated  on  the  field  of  battle,  but  he  had  left 
the  ferment  of  war  for  the  ferment  of  peace,  and  Louis  Pasteur 
was  thus  a  tanner's  son.  But  this  father  was  bookish  and 
thoughtful,  and  the  mother  at  once  enthusiastic  and  shrewd, 
and  there  is  no  lack  of  evidence  that  they  knew  a  great  trust 
was  given  them  in  their  child.  When  Louis  was  three  years  old 
the  family  removed  to  Arbois,  where,  by-and-by,  the  boy  went 
to  school,  and,  as  one  would  expect,  pla3'ed  truant  freely,  often 
angling,  often  making  telling  portraits  of  the  neighbors.  From 
Arbois  he  went  for  a  year  to  the  College  of  Besangon,  where 
he  rose  at  four  in  the  morning,  and  gained  his  Bachelor  of 
Letters  diploma.  It  was  there  that  his  enthusiasm  for  chemis- 
try was  awakened.  Leaving  Besangon,  where  he  had  been  a 
tutor  as  well  as  a  student,  he  sat  for  the  entrance  examination 
to  the  :Ecole  ISTormale  in  Paris.  He  passed  fourteenth  on  the 
list;  but,  as  this  did  not  satisfy  him,  he  withdrew  for  a  year^ 
worked  hard  by  himself,  was  coached  by  an  old  schoolmaster, 
familiarly  knowni  as  Pere  Barbet,  and  in  the  following  year 
(1843)  entered  the  famous  school  fourth  on  the  list.  There 
he  studied  chemistry  under  M.  Balard,  but,  like  his  fellow- 
students,  he  also  attended  M.  Dumas'  course  at  the  Sorbonne. 
Among  others  who  influenced  him  much  was  M.  Delafosse  (a 
pupil  and  colleague  of  the  famous  mineralogist.  Abbe  Haiiy), 
who  infected  Pasteur  with  his  own  enthusiasm  for  molecular 


LOUIS  PASTEUR  AND  HIS  WORK  36S 

physics.  Soon  becoming  known  as  a  man  of  promise^  lie  was 
called  to  Strasburg  as  Assistant  Professor  of  Chemistry,  and 
there  he  married  the  rector's  daughter,  Mdlle.  Marie  Laurent. 
At  the  age  of  thirty-two  he  was  appointed  Dean  of  the  Faculte 
des  Sciences  at  Lille,  where  the  distilling  industry  of  the  district 
stimulated  his  already  awakened  interest  in  fermentation,  and 
led  to  the  famous  series  of  researches  in  which  he  dealt  suc- 
cessively with  vinegar,  wine,  and  beer.  After  three  years'  work 
at  Lille,  he  was  appointed  (1857)  as  Director  of  Scientific 
Studies  in  his  old  college,  the  Ecole  Normale,  in  Paris  —  an 
institution  which  has  had  on  its  staff  no  small  proportion  of 
the  best  scientific  men  of  France.  In  those  days,  however, 
science  was  still  rather  at  a  discount.  "  It  was  the  period  when 
Claude  Bernard  lived  in  a  small  damp  laboratory,  when  M.  Ber- 
thelot,  though  known  through  his  great  labors,  was  still  nothing 
more  than  an  assistant  in  the  College  de  France."  Thus  Pas- 
teur had  to  be  content  with  a  garret  laboratory,  some  ten  feet 
square,  equipped  at  his  own  expense ! 

In  1865  he  began  the  investigation  of  the  calamitous  silkworm 
disease,  and  in  three  years  had  virtually  overcome  it.  But  the 
Peau  de  Chagrin  sadly  shrinks  with  each  fulfilment  of  our  am- 
bitions, and  as  the  Nemesis  of  persistent  overwork  Pasteur  had 
an  attack  of  hemiplegia  (1868).  When  in  the  midst  of  his  la- 
bors spending  much  of  his  time  in  a  hot  greenhouse  where  the 
silkworms  were  kept,  his  physician  had  told  him,  "  If  3^ou  con- 
tinue living  in  that  place  it  may  mean  death;  it  certainly 
means  paralysis."  "  Doctor,"  answered  Pasteur,  "  I  cannot  give 
up  my  work;  I  am  within  sight  of  the  end;  I  feel  the  approach 
of  discovery.  Come  what  may,  I  shall  have  done  my  duty."  He 
was  spared,  however,  to  do  more  for  his  country,  and  even  in  the 
following  year,  when  resting  at  the  Prince  Imperial's  villa  at 
Trieste,  he  vindicated  practically  the  success  of  his  work  on 
silkworms  by  making  for  the  villa  a  net  profit  of  26,000,000 
f r.,  and  that  at  a  place  "  where  for  ten  years  the  silk  harvest  had 
not  sufficed  to  pay  the  cost  of  eggs." 

Then  came  the  year  of  the  catastrophe:  the  strenuous  spirit 
which  well-nigh  mortal  illness  had  failed  to  bend  was  almost 
broken,  and  for  a  moment  he  lost  heart  for  usual  work  amid  the 
national  grief.  French  patriotism,  however,  ever  rises  above 
despair,  and  work  soon  began  afresh,  stimulated  now  to  a  new 


364  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

intensity,  more  perfervid  yet  more  tenacious  than  ever.  The 
student  of  contemporary  history  is  familiar  with  the  splenid 
reaction  of  Germany  after  what  seemed  the  crushing  disaster  of 
Jena,  and  knows  the  part  the  universities  took  in  it,  and  how 
seeds  then  sown  sprang  up  not  only  in  the  armed  victors 
of  1812-1814-1815,  but  more  slowly  in  the  fairer  and  more 
peaceful  development  of  the  German  Universities,  with  all  that 
they  imply.  But  in  England,  in  Germany,  in  France  itself, 
people  have  still  far  too  little  appreciated  the  intensity  of  the 
resolution  of  the  best  men  of  1870  —  "  U  faut  ref  aire  la  patrie  " 
—  or  know  how  much  deeper,  if  less  obvious,  this  has  been  than 
the  much  exaggerated  cry  of  revenge,  or  even  than  the  natural 
and  inevitable  desire  for  the  recovery  of  the  lost  provinces, 
though  these  include  French  Lorraine  as  well  as  Teutonic  Al- 
sace. English  and  German  writers  are  never  weary  of  telling  us 
of  the  decadence  of  France,  or  thanking  Heaven  that  we  are 
not  as  these  Frenchmen;  but  there  is  another,  if  less  prominent, 
side  of  French  life  and  thought,  as  those  who  know  it  from 
within  can  testify,  but  which  even  the  most  cursory  visitor  to 
the  great  expositions  of  '78  or  '89,  the  most  careless  tourist 
through  the  wine  country,  the  most  casual  reader  of  French 
reviews  should  surely  have  seen.  And  it  is  as  part  of  this  na- 
tional renascence,  which  is  fundamentally  not  military  but  in- 
dustrial, fundamentally  not  artistic  or  even  scientific  but  moral, 
that  Pasteur's  life,  work,  and  example,  like  those  of  many  an- 
other quiet  and  non-political  worker,  have  been  given.  This 
renascence  is  still  of  course  only  incipient,  for  a  nation's  life  is 
not  re-made  in  a  single  generation  only;  yet  those  are  but  su- 
perficial observers  who  can  see  in  the  strangely  mixed  present  of 
France  only  the  fruition  of  the  evils  of  her  past,  but  ignore  the 
springing  seed. 

After  the  war  Pasteur  returned  to  his  work  at  the  Sorbonne, 
where  he  had  been  appointed  Professor  of  Chemistry,  and  to  his 
laboratory  at  the  iEcole  Normale.  The  rest  of  his  life  is  prac- 
tically the  story  of  his  scientific  work,  of  which  his  discoveries 
in  connection  with  splenic  fever  and  rabies  are  the  most  out- 
standing events.  His  was  a  temperament  which  made  many 
enemies,  but  many  friends  also;  and  in  his  later  years  he  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  a  school  grow  up  around  him  —  a 
reward  greater  than  all  the  honors  he  received.     Yet  these  were 


LOUIS  PASTEUR  AND  HIS  WORK  365 

not  small,  for  in  1889,  as  the  result  of  almost  world-wide  hom- 
age, the  Pasteur  Institute  was  opened.  Its  "  Annales  "  contain 
the  proof  of  industry  but  little  abated  by  old  age,  and  of  a 
masterly  power  of  inspiring  others. 

After  a  period  of  partial  disablement,  and  another  of  paraly- 
sis, Pasteur  died  on  September  28,  1895,  in  a  quaint  old  house  at 
Garches,  which  had  been  placed  at  his  disposal  for  special  re- 
searches. Thus  he  died,  as  he  lived,  in  his  laboratory;  and  if, 
as  one  of  his  countrymen  puts  it,  there  is  one  word  more  than 
other  which  his  life  suggests,  it  is  the  word  Laheur* 

The  course  of  Pasteur's  scientific  work  is  one  of  remarkably 
natural  and  logical  sequence.  As  the  veteran  M.  Chevreuil 
long  ago  said  in  the  Academy  of  Sciences,  "  It  is  by  first  exam- 
ining in  their  chronological  order  the  researches  of  M.  Pasteur, 
and  then  considering  them  as  a  whole,  that  we  appreciate  the 
rigor  of  his  conclusions,  and  the  perspicacity  of  a  mind  which, 
strong  in  the  truths  which  it  has  already  discovered,  sweeps  for- 
ward to  the  establishment  of  what  is  new.''  We  shall  therefore 
summarize  the  record  of  his  greatest  achievements. 

As  was  natural  in  a  pupil  of  Dumas,  Balard,  and  Delafosse, 
Pasteur's  first  important  piece  of  work  was  chemical  and  crystal- 
lographic,  and  we  may  best  understand  its  spirit  by  recalling 
the  work  of  Delafosse's  master  in  mineralog}^,  the  Abbe  Hauy, 
who  is  still  remembered  for  that  bold  attempt  to  visualize  the 
ultimate  structure  of  the  crystal,  to  penetrate  the  inmost  secret 
of  its  architecture,  which  also  re-appears  in  another  way  in  the 
work  of  Mendel jeff.  Pasteur's  puzzle  concerned  the  tartrates 
and  paratartrates  of  soda  and  ammonia.  These  two  salts  are 
alike  in  chemical  composition,  in  crystalline  form,  in  specific 
gravity,  and  so  on,  but  they  differ  in  behavior.  Thus,  as  Biot 
had  shown,  a  solution  of  tartrate  defiects  the  plane  of  polarized 
light  passed  through  it,  while  a  solution  of  the  paratartrate  does 

*  As  to  Pasteur's  philosophic  and  religious  conceptions  we  have  a  little 
information,  though  he  who  suffered  so  much  in  silence  was  not  likely  to 
talk  of  his  faith.  "  Happy  is  he."  he  once  said,  "  who  has  a  god  in  his 
heart,  an  ideal  of  beauty,  to  which  obedience  is  rendered  ;  the  ideal  of  art, 
the  ideal  of  science,  the  ideal  of  country,  the  ideal  of  the  Gospel  virtues, 
these  are  the  living  sources  of  great  thoughts  and  great  actions."  His 
utterances  at  the  Edinburgh  Tercentenary,  and  at  his  reception  at  the 
Academy  are  well  known.  There  is  another  more  dogmatic  utterance  of 
his,  which  we  quote  from  an  article  by  M.  Jean  Sonsr^re  :  "  Quand  on  a 
bien  etudie,  on  revient  a  la  foi  du  paysan  breton.  Si  j'avais  etudie  plus 
encore,  j'aurais  la  foi  de  la  paysanne  bretonne." 


366  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

not.  The  salts  are  the  same^  yet  they  behave  difierently.  A 
note  to  the  Academy  from  the  famous  chemist  Mitscherlich 
emphasized  tlie  entire  similarity  of  the  two  salts,  and  this  acted 
as  an  additional  stimulus  to  Pasteur.  He  succeeded  in  distin- 
guishing the  minute  facets  which  even  Mitscherlich  had  missed, 
he  proved  that  the  paratartrate  is  a  combination  of  a  left-handed 
and  a  right-handed  tartrate,  and  did  much  else  which  only  the 
expert  chemist  could  duly  explain.  Biot  was  first  doubtful, 
then  delighted;  Arago,  who  had  also  busied  himself  with  these 
matters,  moved  that  Pasteur^s  paper  be  printed  in  the  memoirs 
of  the  Academy,  and  Mitscherlich  himself  congratulated  the 
young  discoverer  who  had  tripped  him  up. 

Already,  then,  in  this  minute  and  laborious  piece  of  work  we 
may  detect  that  ultra-microscopic  mental  vision,  and  that  rig- 
orous accuracy  so  characteristic  of  the  man.  Yet  it  is  interest- 
ing to  observe  that  at  this  early  stage  he  was  sowing  his  wild 
oats  of  speculation.  Impressed  by  the  strange  rotation  of  the 
plane  of  polarization  exhibited  by  these  organic  salts,  he  educed 
therefrom  an  h^-pothesis  of  molecular  disymmetr}^,  and  hazarded 
the  view  that  this  was  a  fundamental  distinction  between  the 
organic  and  the  inorganic.  For  various  reasons,  neither  chem- 
ist nor  biologist  would  nowadays  accept  this  distinction;  but  it 
is  hard  to  tell  what  Pasteur  might  have  made  of  this  inquiry  had 
not  circumstances,  regretted  at  the  time,  directed  his  attention 
to  very  different  subjects. 

Being  thus  known  in  connection  with  tartrates,  Pasteur  was 
one  day  consulted,  so  the  story  goes,  by  a  German  manufacturer 
of  chemicals,  who  was  puzzled  by  the  fermentation  of  his  com- 
mercial tartrate  of  lime,  which  ■  contained  some  admixture  of 
organic  impurities.  Pasteur  undertook  to  look  into  the  matter, 
and  probably  deriving  some  hint  from  the  previous  work  of 
Cagniard  Latour  and  Schwann,  who  had  demonstrated  the  yeast- 
plant  which  causes  alcoholic  fermentation,  he  demonstrated  the 
micro-organism  which  fermented  the  tartrate  of  lime.  He  ex- 
tended this  discovery  to  other  tartrates,  and  made  the  neat  ex- 
periment of  showing  how  the  common  blue  mold  (PeniciUium 
glaucum),  sown  in  paratartrate  of  ammonia,  uses  up  all  the 
right-handed  tartrate,  and  leaves  the  left-handed  salt  alone,  its 
identical  chemical  composition  notwithstanding.  These  and 
similar  inquiries  led  him  to  tackle  the  whole  question  of  fer- 


LOUIS  PASTEUR  AND  HIS  WORK  367 

mentatioiij  but  his  transference  to  Lille  had  probably  much  to 
do  with  this.  For,  as  one  of  the  chief  industries  of  the  district 
is  making  alcohol  from  beetroot  and  grain,  Pasteur^s  practical 
sense  led  him  to  devote  some  of  his  lectures  to  fermentation; 
here,  as  always,  as  his  biographer  reminds  us,  wishful  to  make 
himself  directly  useful  to  his  hearers. 

The  prevalent  theory  of  fermentation,  before  Pasteur  took  the 
subject  in  hand,  was  that  of  Willis  and  Stahl,  revised  and  elab- 
orated by  Liebig.  According  to  this  theory,  nitrogenous  sub- 
stances in  a  state  of  decomposition  upset  the  molecular  equilib- 
rium of  fermentable  matter  with  which  they  are  in  contact. 
What  Pasteur  did  was  to  show  that  lactic,  butyric,  acetic,  and 
some  other  fermentations  were  due  to  the  vital  activity  of 
micro-organisms.  In  spite  of  Liebig's  prolonged  opposition, 
Pasteur  carried  his  point;  and  although  some  of  his  detailed 
interpretations  have  since  been  revised,  it  is  universally  ad- 
mitted that  he  changed  the  whole  complexion  of  the  fermenta- 
tion problem.  It  must,  of  course,  be  borne  in  mind  that  his 
theory  of  the  vital  nature  of  many  fermentations  does  not 
apply  to  soluble  ferments  or  enzymes  —  such  as  diastase  and 
pepsin  —  which  are  chemical  substances,  not  living  organisms. 
Part,  indeed,  of  the  opposition  to  Pasteur's  views  was  due  to  the 
fact  that  this  distinction  between  organized  and  unorganized 
ferments  was  not  at  the  time  clearly  drawn.  Perhaps,  indeed, 
we  are  as  yet  by  no  means .  out  of  the  wood. 

In  the  course  of  his  work  on  fermentation,  Pasteur  made 
an  important  theoretical  step  by  distinguishing  the  micro-organ- 
isms which  require  the  presence  of  free  oxygen,  from  forms 
which  are  able  to  live  apart  from  free  ox3^gen,  obtaining  what 
they  require  by  splitting  up  oxygen-containing  compounds  in 
the  surrounding  medium.  These  he  termed  aerobic  and  anaero- 
bic respectively.  Practically,  this  piece  of  work  immediately 
led  to  what  is  known  as  the  Orleans  process  of  making  vine- 
gar. Some  years  later,  after  he  had  returned  to  Paris,  he  fol- 
lowed this  up  by  his  studies  on  wine,  in  the  course  of  which  he 
tracked  various  wine-diseases  to  their  sources,  and  showed  how 
deterioration  might  be  prevented  by  raising  the  wine  for  a  min- 
ute to  a  temperature  of  50°  C.  The  wine-tasters  of  Paris  gave 
their  verdict  in  his  favor. 

The  old  notion  of  spontaneous  generation  still  lingered  in 


368  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

some  quarters,  and  in  1858  Pouchet  had  given  new  life  to  the 
question  by  claiming  before  the  Academy  of  Sciences  that  he 
had  succeeded  in  proving  the  origin  of  microscopic  organisms 
apart  from  pre-existing  germs.  But  Pasteur  knew  more  than 
Pouchet  as  to  the  insidious  ways  of  germs :  he  showed  the  weak 
point  of  his  antagonist's  experiments,  and  gained  the  prize, 
offered  in  1860  by  the  Academy,  for  "  well-contrived  experi- 
ments to  throw  new  light  upon  the  question  of  spontaneous 
generation."  As  every  one  knows,  the  victory  was  with  Pas- 
teur, but  the  idea  is  an  old  and  recurrent  one,  and  dies  hard. 
Thus,  not  many  years  afterwards,  Pasteur  and  Tyndall  had  to 
fight  the  battle  over  again  with  Bastian.  The  important  result 
of  what  seems  at  first  sight  an  abstract  discussion  has  been  not 
only  an  increased  knowledge  of  the  distribution  and  dissemina- 
tion of  bacteria,  but  the  establishment  of  the  fundamental  con- 
ditions and  methods  of  experimental  bacteriology. 

The  transition  from  the  study  of  ferments  to  the  study  of 
diseases  was  forced  upon  Pasteur  by  the  pressure  of  a  social 
event,  the  threatened  collapse  of  the  silk  husbandry  in  France. 
But  it  was  none  the  less  a  quite  natural  extension  of  his  work; 
it  was  but  a  further  inquiry  into  the  part  which  micro-organisms 
play  in  nature.  In  1849,  after  an  exceptionally  good  year,  a 
strange  disease  broke  out  in  the  silkworm  nurseries  in  the  south 
of  France.  The  silkworms  would  not  feed,  or  they  failed 
in  their  last  moulting;  they  died  soon  after  birth,  or  even  the 
eggs  would  not  hatch;  in  short,  everything  went  wrong.  The 
disease  spread  and  became  an  epidemic;  and  year  after  year  the 
pest  spoiled  the  silk  farmer's  harvest.  All  sorts  of  remedies 
were  tried  in  vain;  the  only  relief  was  found  in  the  importation 
of  fresh  stock.  Spain,  Italy,  and  other  European  countries  suf- 
fered, and  at  length  in  1864  it  was  said  that  Japan  alone  was  free 
from  the  disease.  The  industry,  so  important  in  some  depart- 
ments of  France,  was  threatened  with  entire  collapse;  and  to 
many  pebrine  had  already  spelt  ruin.  Memorials  to  the  Senate 
led  to  the  appointment  of  a  Commission,  with  M.  Dumas  as 
its  secretary.  It  was  he  who  thought  of  appealing  to  his  old 
student,  Pasteur,  and  who  eventually  succeeded  in  persuading 
him  to  leave  his  ferments  and  enter  upon  a  new  path.  The 
story  has  often  been  told  that  when  Pasteur  objected,  saying 
that  he  had  never  even  handled  a  silkworm,  Dumas  replied, 


LOUIS  PASTEUR  AND  HIS  WORK  369 

that  was  so  much  the  better;  it  meant  freedom  from  precon- 
ceptions. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  Pasteur  had  his  preconception, 
and  the  right  one.  The  fermentations  he  had  studied  were  due 
to  micro-organisms,  why  not  also  this  disease?  And  he  was 
also  aware  that  some  Italian  naturalists  had  discovered  "  pecul- 
iar microscopic  corpuscles  ^^  in  the  diseased  eggs,  worms,  and 
moths.  A  few  hours  after  his  arrival  in  Alais,  on  June  6,  1865, 
Pasteur  demonstrated  these  corpuscles,  and  the  first  step  was 
thus  secure.  With  unsparing  industry  he  traced  them  through 
all  the  phases  of  the  insect's  life;  he  infected  the  silkworms  by 
spreading  some  of  the  corpusculous  matter  on  the  leaves  they 
ate;  he  inoculated  others  and  showed  how  they  infected  their 
neighbors  by  scratching  them ;  he  dealt  in  a  similar  way  with  a 
second  disease  called  flacherie;  and  finally,  as  the  outcome  of 
his  work — -which  is  still  a  remarkable  object-lesson,. as  it  then 
was  for  himself,  as  to  the  treatment  of  other  contagious  dis- 
eases.—  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  only  escape  from 
the  scourge  was  through  the  isolation  of  the  healthy  stock  and 
the  rigid  elimination  of  the  diseased.  "  If  you  use  eggs,''  he 
said,  "produced  by  moths,  the  worms  of  which  have  proved 
their  health  by  climbing  with  agility  up  to  the  twigs  on  which 
they  form  their  cocoons,  if  they  have  shown  no  signs  of  flacherie 
between  the  fourth  moulting  and  this  time,  and  which  do  not 
contain  the  least  germ  of  pebrine,  then  you  will  succeed  in  all 
your  cultivations."  The  art  of  distinguishing  the  healthy  and 
unhealthy  was  soon  learned,  and  in  spite  of  the  usual  opposition, 
Pasteur  and  the  microscope  saved  the  silk  industry. 

As  soon  as  his  health  had  partially  recovered  from  the  attack 
of  paralysis  already  mentioned,  Pasteur  returned  to  his  study 
of  ferments,  and  did  for  beer  vdiat  he  had  already  done  for 
wine.  He  distinguished  from  the  true  yeast  plant  other  micro- 
organisms, apt  to  be  associated  with  it,  which  cause  sourness  and 
other  diseases  of  beer.  A  prime  condition  of  good  beer  is  ob- 
viously therefore  good  yeast;  the  brewer  therefore  must  learn 
to  use  his  microscope.  That  the  important  brewers  soon  took 
the  hint  goes  without  saying;  rapidly  the  microscope  has  found 
its  place  —  in  result  and  often  in  daily  application  —  in  the 
brewery;  and  it  is  now  making  its  way  into  the  bakery  and  the 
dairy  as  well. 

24 


370  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

Getting  next  to  closer  grips  with  life  and  death,  Pasteur  at- 
tacked the  problem  of  splenic  fever  or  anthrax.  To  this  disease 
many  animals,  sheep,  cattle,  horses,  and  the  like  are  liable; 
and  in  pastoral  countries  it  may  spread  rapidly,  and  has  often 
attained  the  dimensions  of  a  plague.  Thus  the  Ostiak  herds- 
man who  was  rich  in  countless  head  of  reindeer  may  find  him- 
self reduced  to  poverty  in  a  season,  or  the  Hungarian  shepherd 
prince  well  nigh  lose  his  flocks.  Nor  is  man  exempt.  As  far 
back  as  1850  Davaine  and  Rayer  had  observed  microscopic  rods 
in  the  blood  of  animals  which  had  died  from  splenic  fever, 
but  they  did  not  follow  up  their  discovery;  in  1863,  doubtless 
stimulated  by  Pasteur's  researches  on  micro-organisms,  Davaine 
had  affirmed  that  the  microbe  was  the  cause  of  the  disease,  but 
his  conclusion  did  not  meet  with  general  acceptance;  again 
thirteen  years  elapsed,  and  in  1876  Dr.  Koch  made  his  first 
step  to  fame  by  satisfactorily  proving  that  splenic  fever  was 
due  to  Bacillus  anthracis. 

Pasteur  confirmed  Koch^s  work  with  independent  observations 
and  experiments  and  advanced  beyond  it.  Thus  with  his  usual 
insight  he  explained  that  the  immunity  of  birds  from  anthrax 
was  due  to  their  high  temperature  (41°-43°  C),  which  is  near 
the  limit  (44°  C.)  at  which  the  multiplication  of  Bacillus  an- 
thracis  is  inhibited  in  infusions.  He  chilled  a  fowl  to  37"  or 
38°  C,  and  inoculated  it;  it  died  in  twenty-four  hours.  Again 
he  inoculated  a  chilled  fowl,  let  the  fever  develop,  placed  the 
bird  wrapped  in  cotton  wool  in  a  chamber  at  45°  C,  and  saved 
it:  As  Professor  Tyndall  says  in  his  vivid  sketch  of  Pasteur^s 
work :  "  The  sharpness  of  the  reasoning  here  is  only  equaled 
by  the  conclusiveness  of  the  experiment,  which  is  full  of  sugges- 
tiveness  as  regards  the  treatment  of  fevers  in  man.^'  The  cur- 
rent explanation  of  relapsing  fevers  is  in  fact  dependent  upon 
this. 

A  minor  episode  concerning  fowl-cholera  is  important  here  in 
following  the  logical  progress  of  Pasteur's  work,  xis  others 
had  done,  he  recognized  the  microbe  at  work;  but  he  did  more, 
he  tamed  it.  By  cultivating  it  exposed  to  air,  he  produced  an 
attenuated  or  weakened  form,  and  by  inoculating  fowls  with  this 
he  saved  them  from  falling  victims  should  they  afterwards 
become  infected  with  the  "  untamed ''  or  virulent  form.  Jen- 
ner  had,  of  course,  reached  a  parallel  result,  protecting  us  from 


LOUIS  PASTEUR  AND  HIS  ^YORK  371 

the  virulence  of  small-pox  by  inoculations  with  the  milder 
microbe  of  cow-pox;  but  it  should  be  carefully  noticed  that 
Pasteur's  method  was  quite  different.  He  attenuated  the  virus 
of  the  dreaded  disease  itself,  and  inoculated  with  that  —  a  strik- 
ing instance  of  similia  similibus  curantur. 

With  this  new  clue  he  returned  to  splenic  fever,  cultivated 
the  bacillus  exposed  to  air  at  a  temperature  of  42°-43°  C. — 
at  which  no  spores  are  formed  —  and  obtained  again  an  atten- 
uated virus.  Confident  of  each  step,  he  boldly  accepted  the 
test  of  a  public  experiment,  which  resulted  in  what  we  may  call 
the  victory  of  Melun.  The  Society  of  Agriculture  there  placed 
at  his  disposal  sixty  sheep  and  ten  cows;  ten  sheep  were  to 
receive  no  treatment,  twenty-five  were  to  be  inoculated  with  the 
attenuated  vaccine;  and  these,  along  with  the  other  twenty- 
five,  were  eventually  to  be  infected  with  the  virus  of  virulent 
splenic  fever;  similarly  with  the  cows.  On  June  2,  1881,  over 
two  hundred  experts  and  others  met  at  Melun  to  witness  the 
result.  Out  of  the  twenty-five  sheep  which  had  not  been  vac- 
cinated, twenty-one  were  dead;  two  others  were  dying;  the 
non-vaccinated  cows  were  fevered  and  off  their  food;  the  vac- 
cinated cows  had  not  suffered  an  elevation  of  temperature,  and 
were  eating  quietly.  One  cannot  wonder  at  "  the  shout  of 
admiration"  which  arose  from  the  witnesses  of  this  dramatic 
experiment.  The  result  was  a  wide  use  of  vaccine  and  a  reduc- 
tion of  the  mortality  from  splenic  fever,  which  yearly  gives 
the  economic  justification  of  the  literal  hecatomb  of  its  initia- 
tion. 

To  what  he  had  thus  achieved  in  connection  with  splenic 
fever,  Pasteur  made  another  important  addition.  He  showed  by 
careful  experiments  that  when  animals  which  had  died  of  an- 
thrax were  buried  in  certain  soils,  the  splenic  germs  lived  on; 
the  earth-worms  brought  them  to  the  surface  in  their  castings, 
and  dissemination  recommenced.  Therefore,  as  he  said,  "we 
should  never  bury  animals  in  fields  destined  either  for  cultiva- 
tion, for  forage,  or  for  sheep  pasture."  When  it  is  possible,  a 
sandy  soil  should  be  chosen  for  the  purpose,  or  any  poor  cal- 
careous soil,  dry,  and  easily  desiccated  —  in  a  word,  soil  not 
suited  to  the  existence  of  earth-worms.  Thus  Darwin  and  Pas- 
teur meet  in  the  study  of  earth-worms  and  the  part  they  play 
in  the  intricate  web  of  life.     The  part  of  worms  in  spreading 


372  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

ether  epidemics  —  e.  g.,  yellow  fever  —  is  now  also  under  inves- 
tigation. 

Opposition  was  an  ever  recurrent  factor  in  Pasteur's  life.  He 
had  to  fight  for  his  crystallographic  and  chemical  theories,  and 
for  his  fermentation  theory;  he  had  to  fight  against  the  theory 
of  spontaneous  generation,  and  for  his  practice  in  inoculating  as 
a  preventive  against  splenic  fever;  he  had  to  fight  for  each 
step.  But  no  part  of  his  work  has  met  with  so  much  opposition 
and  adverse  criticism  as  that  concerning  hydrophobia,  though 
it  is  easy  to  exaggerate  the  importance  of  the  discussion,  in 
which  Pasteur  himself  took  little  part. 

While  avoiding  controversy  and  partisanship  as  far  as  may  be, 
the  question  remains.  What  did  Pasteur  do  in  regard  to  hydro- 
phobia?    His  claims  are  to  have  proved,  first  of  all,  that  the 
disease  was   particularly   associated  with  the   nervous   system. 
The  virus  is  usually  spread  through  the  saliva,  but  it  is  not 
found  in  the  blood  or  lymph,  and  it  has  its  special  seat  in  the 
nerves,  brain,  and  spinal  cord.     Secondly,  he  showed  that  the 
virus  might  be  attenuated  in  its  virulence.     The  spinal  cord  of 
a  rabbit  which  has   died  of  rabies  is,  when  fresh,  powerfully 
virulent,  but  when  exposed  for  a  couple  of  weeks  to  dry  air 
at  a  constant  temperature  of  23°-24:°  C.  it  loses  its  virulence. 
Thirdly,  he  showed  that  inoculation  with  the  attenuated  virus 
rendered  an  animal  immune  from  infection  with  rabies.     To 
make  the  animal  immune  it  has  first  to  be  inoculated  with  in- 
fected spinal  cord  fourteen  days  old,  then  with  that  of  thirteen 
days,  and  so  on  till  inoculation  with  almost  freshly  infected 
spinal  cord  is  possible.     In  this  way  the  animal  becomes  refrac- 
tory to  the  infection,  and  if  it  be  bitten  it  will  not  die.     Fourth- 
1}^,  he  showed  that  even  if  the  organism  had  been  bitten,  it  was 
still  possible  to  save  it,  unless  the  wounds  were  near  the  head  — 
that  is,  within  close  reach  of  the  central  nervous  system.     For 
in  the  ca-se  of  a  superficial  wound,  say  on  hand  or  leg,  the 
virus  takes  some  considerable  time  to  spread,  and  during  this 
period  of  spreading  and  incubation  it  is  possible  to  forestall  the 
virus  by  inoculation  with  that  which  has  been  attenuated.     In 
this  case  there  is  obvious  truth  in  the  proverb,  "Bis  dat  qui 
cito  dat/'     And  the  outcome  was  that  while  out  of  a  hundred 
persons  bitten,  nineteen   or   twenty  will,   in   ordinar}^   circum- 
stances, die,  "the  mortality  amongst  cases  treated  at  the  Pas- 


LOUIS    PASTEUR   AND    HIS    WORK  373 

teur  Institute  has  fallen,  to  less  than  %  per  cent/^  According 
to  another  set  of  statistics,  a  mortality  of  40  per  cent,  has  been 
reduced  to  1.3  per  cent.;  and  of  1673  patients  treated  by  Pas- 
teur's method  only  13  died. 

As  to  the  adverse  criticism  of  Pasteur's  inoculation  against 
rabies,  it  consists,  first  and  second,  of  the  general  argument 
of  the  anti-vivisectionists  and  the  anti-vaccinationists,  and 
thirdly,  of  specific  objections.  To  the  two  former  the  school 
of  Pasteur,  of  course,  replies  that  the  value  of  human  life 
answers  the  one,  and  the  results  of  experience  the  other;  but 
on  these  controversies  we  cannot  enter  here.  The  main  spe- 
cific objections  we  take  to  be  three  —  that  as  the  micro-organism 
of  rabies  has  not  really  been  seen,  the  theory  and  practice  of 
Pasteur's  anti-rabic  method  lack  that  stability  which  is  de- 
sirable; that  the  statistics  in  favor  of  the  Pasteur  procedure 
have  been  insufficiently  criticised;  that  there  have  been  failures 
and  casualties,  sometimes  of  a  tragic  nature.  In  regard  to 
this  last  point  —  that  deaths  have  occurred  as  the  result  of  the 
supposed  cure,  instead  of  from  the  original  infection  —  we  may 
note  that  the  possibility  of  such  casualties  was  admitted  by 
the  English  Investigation  Committee  (1887),  while,  on  the  oth- 
er hand.  Dr.  Armand  Euffer,  who  speaks  with  much  authority, 
denies  with  all  deliberateness  that  there  is  any  known  case  in 
which  death  followed  as  the  result  of  Pasteur's  treatment. 

Microscopic  verification  is,  of  course,  most  desirable,  and  sta- 
tistics are  proverbially  difficult  of  criticism.  But,  on  the  whole, 
we  think  it  likely  that  those  who,  like  ourselves,  are  not  medical 
experts  will  incline  to  believe  that  Sir  James  Paget,  Dr.  Lauder 
Brunton,  Professor  George  Fleming,  Sir  Joseph  Lister,  Dr. 
Eichard  Quain,  Sir  Henry  Eoscoe,  and  Professor  Burdon  San- 
derson must  have  had  grounds  for  sa3dng,  in  the  report  which 
they  presented  to  Parliament  in  1887,  "  It  may,  hence,  be  deemed 
certain  that  M.  Pasteur  has  discovered  a  method  of  protection 
from  rabies  comparable  with  that  which  -vaccination  affords 
against  infection  from  small-pox." 

So  far  a  summary  of  Pasteur's  personal  life  and  scientific 
work,  but  is  it  not  possible  to  make  a  more  general  and  rational 
estimate  of  these  ?  So  much  was  his  life  centered  in  Paris  that 
most  are  probably  accustomed  to  think  of  him  as  a  townsman; 
but  it  is  more  biologically  accurate  to  recognize  him  as  a  rustic. 


374  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

sprung  from  a  strong,  thrifty  stock  of  mountain  peasants.  Nor 
can  his  early  rustic  environment  of  tanyard  and  farm,  of  village 
and  country-side,  be  overlooked  as  a  factor  in  developing  that 
practical  sense  and  economic  insight  which  were  so  conspicuous  in 
his  life  work.  The  tanner's  son  becomes  the  specialist  in  fer- 
mentation; the  country  boy  is  never  throughout  his  life  beyond 
hail  of  the  poultry-yard  and  the  farm-steading,  the  wine-press 
and  the  silk  nursery;  brought  up  in  the  rural  French  atmos- 
phere of  careful  thrift  and  minute  economies,  all  centered  not 
round  the  mechanism  or  exchange  of  town  industries,  but  round 
the  actual  maintenance  of  human  and  organic  life,  he  becomes  a 
great  life-saver  in  his  generation. 

In  short,  as  we  might  almost  diagrammatically  sum  it  up, 
the  shrewd,  minutely  careful,  yet  inquiring  rustic,  eager  to 
understand  and  then  to  improve  what  he  sees,  passes  in  an  ever- 
widening  spiral  from  his  rural  center  upwards,  from  tan-pit  to 
vat  and  vintage,  from  manure-heaps,  earthworms,  and  water- 
supply  to  the  problems  of  civic  sanitation.  The  rustic  tragedies 
of  the  dead  cow  and  the  mad  dog  excite  the  explanation  and 
suggest  the  prevention  of  these  disasters;  from  the  poisoning 
of  rats  and  mice  he  passes  to  suggestive  experiments  as  to  the 
rabbit-pest  of  Australia,  and  so  in  other  cases  from  beast  to 
man,  from  village  to  State.  And  on  each  radius  on  which  he 
paused  he  left  either  a  method  or  a  clue,  and  set  some  other 
inquirer  at  work.  On  each  radius  of  work  he  has  left  his  dis- 
ciples ;  for  he  founded  not  only  an  Institute,  but  a  living  school, 
or  indeed  whole  schools  of  workers.  We  think  of  him,  then,  not 
only  as  a  thinking  rustic,  but  as  one  of  the  greatest  examples  in 
science  of  the  Eustic  as  Thinker  —  a  type  of  thinker  too  rare 
in  our  mechanical  and  urban  generation,  yet  for  whom  the 
next  generation  waits. 

As  to  his  actual  legacy  to  the  world,  let  us  sum  it  up  briefly. 
There  is  the  impulse  which  he  gave,  after  the  successful  organ- 
ization of  his  own  Institute,  to  the  establishment  in  other  coun- 
tries of  similar  laboratories  of  preventive  medicine,  and,  one 
may  also  say,  of  experimental  evolution.  There  is  his  educative 
work  at  Strasburg  and  Lille,  at  the  Ecole  Normale  and  the 
Sorbonne,  and,  above  all,  in  the  smaller  yet  world-wide  circle 
of  his  immediate  disciples.  To  general  biology  his  chief  con- 
tribution has  been  the  demonstration  of  the  part  which  bac- 


LOUIS  PASTEUR  AND  HIS  WORK  375 

teria  play,  not  only  in  pathological  and  physiological  processes, 
but  in  the  wider  drama  of  evolution.  To  the  chemist  he  has 
given  a  new  theory  of  fermentation;  to  the  physician  many  a 
suggestive  lesson  in  the  etiology  of  diseases,  and  a  series  of 
bold  experiments  in  preventive  and  curative  inoculation,  of 
which  Eoux's  treatment  of  diphtheria  and  Professor  Fraser^s 
new  remedy  for  snake-bite  are  examples  at  present  before  the 
public;  to  the  surgeon  a  stable  foundation,  as  Lister  acknowl- 
edged, for  antiseptic  treatment;  to  the  hygienist  a  multitude  of 
practical  suggestions  concerning  water-supply  and  drainage,  dis- 
infection and  burial.  On  brewer,  distiller,  and  wine-maker 
he  has  forced  the  microscope  and  its  results;  and  he  has  shown 
both  agriculturist  and  stock-breeder  how  some,  at  least,  of  their 
many  more  than  ten  plagues  may  be  either  averted  or  alleviated. 
In  short,  he  has  played  a  foremost  part  in  the  war  against 
bacteria,  in  the  elimination  of  the  eliminators.  But  this  raises 
the  further  question,  too  wide  for  discussion  here  —  What  pro- 
cesses of  intelligent  selection  are  to  take  the  place  of  those  too 
indiscriminating  ones  which  are  disappearing  before  the  rapid 
progress  of  preventive  medicine  and  hygiene?  Here  is  the  best 
evidence  and  measure  of  scientific  discovery,  that  it  raises  new 
questions;  in  Pasteur's  case,  one  essential  to  the  future  of 
civilization. 


376  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


THE  DISCOVERY  OF  ANESTHETICS. 

By  SIR  JAMES  PAGET,  M.  D. 

THE  history  of  the  discovery  of  methods  for  the  prevention 
of  pain  in  surgical  operations  deserves  to  be  considered 
by  all  who  study  either  the  means  by  which  knowledge  is 
advanced  or  the  lives  of  those  by  whom  beneficial  discoveries  are 
made.  And  this  history  may  best  be  traced  in  the  events  which 
led  to  and  followed  the  use  of  nitrous  oxide  gas,  of  sulphuric 
ether,  and  of  chloroform  as  anaesthetics  —  that  is,  as  means  by 
which  complete  insensibility  may  be  safely  produced  .and  so  long 
maintained  that  a  surgical  operation,  of  whatever  severity  and 
however  prolonged,  may  be  absolutely  painless. 

In  1798,  Mr.  Humphry  Davy,  an  apprentice  to  Mr.  Borlase, 
a  surgeon  at  Bodmin,  had  so  distinguished  himself  by  zeal  and 
power  in  the  study  of  chemistry  and  natural  philosophy,  that  he 
was  invited  by  Dr.  Beddoes,  of  Bristol,  to  become  the  "  superin- 
tendent of  the  Pneumatic  Institution  which  had  been  established 
at  Clifton  for  the  purpose  of  trying  the  medicinal  effects  of 
different  gases.^^  He  obtained  release  from  his  apprenticeship, 
accepted  the  appointment,  and  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of 
gases,  not  only  in  their  medicinal  effects,  but  much  more  in  all 
their  chemical  and  physical  relations.  After  two  years'  work 
he  published  his  Researches,  Chemical  and  Philosophical,  chiefly 
concerning  Nitrous  Oxide,  an  essay  proving  a  truly  marvelous 
ingenuity,  patience,  and  courage  in  experiments,  and  such  a 
power  of  observing  and  of  thinking  as  has  rarely  if  ever  been 
surpassed  by  any  scientific  man  of  Davy's  age;  for  he  was  then 
only  twenty-two. 

In  his  inhalations  of  the  nitrous  oxide  gas  he  observed  all  the 
phenomena  of  mental  excitement,  of  exalted  imagination,  en- 
thusiasm, merriment,  restlessness,  from  which  it  gained  its  popu- 
lar name  of  "laughing  gas";  and  he  saw  people  made,  at  least 
for  some  short  time  and  in  some  measure,  insensible  by  it.     So, 


THE   DISCOVERY   OF  ANESTHETICS  377 

among  other  suggestions  or  guesses  about  probable  medicinal 
uses  of  inhalation  of  gases,  he  wrote,  near  the  end  of  his  essay: 
"  As  nitrous  oxide  in  its  extensive  operation  appears  capable  of 
destroying  physical  pain,  it  may  probably  be  used  with  advantage 
during  surgical  operations  in  which  no  great  effusion  of  blood 
takes  place/' 

It  seems  strange  that  no  one  caught  at  a  suggestion  such  as 
this.  True,  the  evidence  on  which  it  was  founded  was  very 
slight ;  it  was  with  a  rare  scientific  power  that  Davy  had  thought 
out  so  far  beyond  his  facts 'I' but  he  had  thought  clearly,  and  as 
clearly  told  his  belief.  Yet  no  one  earnestly  regarded  it.  The 
nitrous  oxide  might  have  been  of  as  little  general  interest  as  the 
carbonic  or  any  other,  had  it  not  been  for  the  strange  and  va- 
rious excitements  produced  by  its  inhalation.  These  made  it  a 
favorite  subject  with  chemical  lecturers,  and  year  after  year,  in 
nearly  every  chemical  theater,  it  was  fun  to  inhale  it  after  the 
lecture  on  the  gaseous  compounds  of  nitrogen;  and  among  those 
who  inhaled  it  there  must  have  been  many  who,  in  their  intox- 
ication, received  sharp  and  heavy  blows,  but,  at  the  time,  felt 
no  pain.  And  this  went  on  for  more  than  forty  years,  exciting 
nothing  worthy  to  be  called  thought  or  observation,  till,  in  De- 
cember, 1844,  Mr.  Colton,  a  popular  itinerant  lecturer  on  chem- 
istry, delivered  a  lecture  on  "  laughing  gas  "  in  Hartford,  Con- 
necticut. Among  his  auditors  was  Mr.  Horace  Wells,  an  enter- 
prising dentist  in  that  town,  a  man  of  some  power  in  mechanical 
invention.  After  the  lecture  came  the  usual  amusement  of  in- 
haling the  gas,  and  Wells,  in  whom  long  wishing  had  bred  a 
kind  of  belief  that  something  might  be  found  to  make  tooth- 
drawing  painless,  observed  that  one  of  the  men  excited  by  the 
gas  was  not  conscious  of  hurting  himself  when  he  fell  on  the 
benches  and  bruised  and  cut  his  knees.  Even  when  he  became 
calm  and  clear-headed  the  man  was  sure  that  he  did  not  feel 
pain  at  the  time  of  his  fall.  Wells  was  at  once  convinced  — 
more  easily  convinced  than  a  man  of  more  scientific  mind  would 
have  been  —  that,  during  similar  insensibility,  in  a  state  of  in- 
tense nervous  excitement,  teeth  might  be  drawn  without  pain, 
and  he  determined  that  himself  and  one  of  his  own  largest  teeth 
should  be  the  first  for  trial.  Next  morning  Colton  gave  him 
the  gas,  and  his  friend  Dr.  Riggs  extracted  his  tooth.  He  re- 
mained unconscious  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  exclaimed, 


378  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

''A  new  era  in  tooth-pulling!     It  did  not  hurt  me  more  than 
the  prick  of  a  pin.     It  is  the  greatest  discovery  ever  made/' 

In  the  next  three  weeks  Wells  extracted  teeth  from  some 
twelve  or  fifteen  persons  under  the  influence  of  the  nitrous  oxide, 
and  gave  pain  to  only  two  or  three.  Dr.  Eiggs,  also,  used  it 
with  the  same  success,  and  the  practice  was  well  known  and 
talked  of  in  Hartford. 

Encouraged  by  his  success  Wells  went  to  Boston,  wishing  to 
enlarge  the  reputation  of  his  discovery  and  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  givmg  the  gas  to  some  one  undergoing  a  surgical  opera- 
tion. Dr.  J.  C.  Warren,  the  senior  Surgeon  of  the  Massachu- 
setts General  Hospital,  to  whom  he  applied  for  this  purpose, 
asked  him  to  show  first  its  effects  on  some  one  from  whom  he 
would  draw  a  tooth.  He  undertook  to  do  this  in  the  theater  of 
the  medical  college  before  a  large  class  of  students,  to  whom  he 
had,  on  a  previous  day,  explained  his  plan.  Unluckily,  the  bag 
of  gas  from  which  the  patient  was  inhaling  was  taken  away  too 
soon;  he  cried  out  when  his  tooth  was  drawn;  the  students 
hissed  and  hooted;  and  the  discovery  was  denounced  as  an  im- 
posture. 

Wells  left  Boston  disappointed  and  disheartened;  he  fell  ill, 
and  was  for  many  months  unable  to  practice  his  profession. 
Soon  afterwards  he  gave  up  dentistry,  and  neglected  the  use 
and  study  of  the  nitrous  oxide,  till  he  was  recalled  to  it  by  a  dis- 
covery even  more  important  than  his  own. 

The  thread  of  the  history  of  nitrous  oxide  may  be  broken  here. 

The  inhalation  of  sulphuric  ether  was  often,  even  in  the 
eighteenth  century,  used  for  the  relief  of  spasmodic  asthma, 
phthisis,  and  some  other  diseases  of  the  chest.  Dr.  Beddoes  and 
others  thus  wrote  of  it:  but  its  utility  was  not  great,  and  there 
is  no  evidence  that  this  use  of  it  had  any  influence  on  the  dis- 
covery of  its  higher  value,  unless  it  were,  very  indirectly,  in  its 
having  led  to  its  being  found  useful  for  soothing  the  irritation 
produced  by  inhaling  chlorine.  Much  more  was  due  to  its  being 
used,  like  nitrous  oxide,  for  the  fun  of  the  excitement  which  its 
diluted  vapor  would  produce  in  those  who  freely  inhaled  it. 

The  beginning  of  its  use  for  this  purpose  is  not  clear.  In  the 
Journal  of  Science  and  the  Arts,  published  in  1818  at  the  Royal 
Institution,  there  is  a  short  anonymous  statement  among  the 
"  Miscellanea,"  in  which  it  is  said,  "  When  the  vapor  of  ether 


THE    DISCOVERY    OF   ANAESTHETICS  379 

mixed  with  common  air  is  inlialed,  it  produces  effects  very  simi- 
lar to  those  occasioned  by  nitrous  oxide/^  The  method  of  in- 
haling and  its  effects  are  described,  and  then  "  it  is  necessary  to 
use  caution  in  making  experiments  of  this  kind.  By  the  im- 
prudent inspiration  of  ether  a  gentleman  was  thrown  into  a  very 
lethargic  state,  which  continued  with  occasional  periods  of  in- 
termission for  more  than  thirty  hours,  and  a  great  depression 
of  spirits;  for  many  days  the  pulse  was  so  much  lowered  that 
considerable  fears  were  entertained  for  his  Hie.'' 

The  statement  of  these  facts  has  been  ascribed  to  Faraday, 
under  whose  management  the  journal  was  at  that  time  published. 
But,  whoever  wrote  or  whoever  may  have  read  the  statement,  it 
was,  for  all  useful  purposes,  as  much  neglected  as  was  Davy's 
suggestion  of  the  utility  of  the  nitrous  oxide.  The  last  sentence, 
quoted  as  it  was  by  Pereira  and  others  writing  on  the  uses  of 
ether,  excited  much  more  fear  of  death  than  hope  of  ease  from 
ether-inhalation.  Such  effects  as  are  described  in  it  are  of  ex- 
ceeding rarity;  their  danger  was  greatly  over-estimated;  but 
the  account  of  them  was  enough  to  discourage  all  useful  re- 
search. 

But,  as  the  sulphuric  ether  would  "  produce  effects  very  simi- 
lar to  those  occasioned  by  nitrous  oxide,''  and  was  much  the  more 
easy  to  procure,  it  came  to  be  often  inhaled,  for  amusement,  by 
chemists'  lads  and  by  pupils  in  the  dispensaries  of  surgeons.  It 
was  often  thus  used  by  young  people  in  many  places  of  the 
United  States.  They  had  what  they  called  "  ether-frolics,"  in 
which  they  inhaled  ether  till  they  became  merry,  or  in  some 
other  way  absurdly  excited  or,  sometimes,  completely  insensible. 

Among  those  who  had  joined  in  these  ether-frolics  was  Dr. 
Wilhite,  of  Anderson,  South  Qarolina.  In  one  of  them,  in  1839, 
when  nearly  all  of  the  party  had  been  inhaling  and  some  had 
been  laughing,  some  crying,  some  fighting  —  just  as  they  might 
have  done  if  they  had  had  the  nitrous  oxide  gas  —  Wilhite,  then 
a  lad  of  seventeen,  saw  a  negro  boy  at  the  door  and  tried  to  per- 
suade him  to  inhale.  He  refused  and  resisted  all  attempts  to 
make  him  do  it,  till  they  seized  him,  held  him  down,  and  kept  a 
handkerchief  wet  with  ether  close  over  his  mouth.  Presently 
his  struggles  ceased ;  he  lay  insensible,  snoring,  past  all  arousing ; 
he  seemed  to  be  dying.     And  thus  he  lay  for  an  hour,  till  medical 


380  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

help  came  and,  with  shaking,  slapping,  and  cold  splashing,  he 
was  awakened  and  suffered  no  harm. 

The  fright  at  having,  it  was  supposed,  so  nearly  killed  the 
boy,  put  an  end  to  ether-frolics  in  that  neighborhood;  but  in 
1842  Wilhite  had  become  a  pupil  of  Dr.  Crauford  Long,  prac- 
ticing at  that  time  at  Jefferson  (Jackson  County,  Georgia). 
Here  he  and  Dr.  Long  and  three  fellow-pupils  often  amused 
themselves  with  the  ether-inhalation,  and  Dr.  Long  observed 
that  when  he  became  furiously  excited,  as  he  often  did,  he  was 
unconscious  of  the  blows  which  he,  by  chance,  received  as  he 
rushed  or  tumbled  about.  He  observed  the  same  in  his  pupils; 
and  thinking  over  this,  and  emboldened  by  what  Mr.  Wilhite 
told  him  of  the  negro  boy  recovering  after  an  hour's  insensibility, 
he  determined  to  try  whether  the  ether-inhalation  would  make 
any  one  insensible  of  the  pain  of  an  operation.  So,  in  March, 
1842,  nearly  three  years  before  Wells's  observations  with  the 
nitrous  oxide,  he  induced  Mr.  Yenable,  who  had  been  very  fond 
of  inhaling  ether,  to  inhale  it  till  he  was  quite  insensible.  Then 
he  dissected  a  tumor  from  his  neck;  no  pain  was  felt,  and  no 
harm  followed.  Three  months  later,  he  similarly  removed  an- 
other tumor  from  him;  and  again,  in  1842  and  1845,  he  operated 
on  three  other  'patients,  and  none  felt  pain.  His  operations  were 
known  and  talked  of  in  his  neighborhood ;  but  the  neighborhood 
was  only  that  of  an  obscure  little  town;  and  he  did  not  publish 
any  of  his  observations.  The  record  of  his  first  operation  was 
only  entered  in  his  ledger : 

"  James  Venable,  1842.     Ether  and  excising  tumor,  $2.00.'' 

He  waited  to  test  the  ether  more  thoroughly  in  some  greater 
operation  than  those  in  which  he  had  yet  tried  it;  and  then  he 
would  have  published  his  account  of  it.  While  he  was  waiting, 
others  began  to  stir  more  actively  in  busier  places,  where  his 
work  was  quite  unknown,  not  even  heard  of. 

Among  those  with  whom,  in  his  unlucky  visit  to  Boston,  Wells 
talked  of  his  use  of  the  nitrous  oxide,  and  of  the  great  discovery 
which  he  believed  that  he  had  made,  were  Dr.  Morton  and  Dr. 
Charles  Jackson,  men  widely  different  in  character  and  pursuit, 
but  inseparable  in  the  next  chapter  of  the  history  of  anaesthetics. 

Morton  was  a  restless,  energetic  dentist,  a  rough  man,  reso- 
lute to  get  practice  and  make  his  fortune.  Jackson  was  a  quiet, 
scientific  gentleman,  unpractical  and  unselfish,  in  good  repute 


THE    DISCOVERY   OF  ANESTHETICS  381 

as  a  chemist^  geologist,  and  mineralogist.  At  the  time  of 
Wells'  visit,  Morton,  who  had  been  his  pupil  in  1842,  and  for 
a  short  time  in  1843  his  partner,  was  studying  medicine  and 
anatomy  at  the  Massachusetts  Medical  College,  and  was  living 
in  Jackson's  house.  Neither  Morton  nor  Jackson  put  much  if 
any  faith  in  Wells'  story,  and  Morton  witnessed  his  failure  in 
the  medical  theater.  Still,  Morton  had  it  in  his  head  that 
tooth-drawing  might  somehow  be  made  painless,  and  even  aftei 
Wells  had  retired  from  practice,  he  talked  with  him  about  it, 
and  made  some  experiments,  but,  having  no  scientific  skill  or 
knowledge,  they  led  to  nothing.  Still,  he  would  not  rest,  and  he 
was  guided  to  success  by  Jackson,  whom  Wells  advised  him  to 
ask  to  make  some  nitrous  oxide  gas  for  him. 

Jackson  had  long  known,  as  many  others  had,  of  sulphuric 
ether  being  inhaled  for  amusement,  and  of  its  producing  effects 
like  those  of  nitrous  oxide ;  he  knew  also  of  its  employment  as  a 
remedy  for  the  irritation  caused  by  inhaling  chlorine.  He  had 
himself  used  it  for  this  purpose,  and  once,  in  1842,  while  using 
it,  he  became  completely  insensible.  He  had  thus  been  led  to 
think  that  the  pure  ether  might  be  used  for  the  prevention  of 
pain  in  surgical  operations;  he  spoke  of  it  with  some  scientific 
friends,  and  sometimes  advised  a  trial  of  it ;  but  he  did  not  urge 
it  or  take  any  active  steps  to  promote  even  the  trial.  One  even- 
ing, Morton,  who  was  now  in  practice  as  a  dentist,  called  on  him, 
full  of  some  scheme  which  he  did  not  divulge,  and  urgent  for 
success  in  painless  tooth-drawing.  Jackson  advised  him  to  use 
the  ether,  and  taught  him  how  to  use  it. 

On  that  same  evening,  the  30th  of  September,  1846,  Morton 
inhaled  the  ether,  put  himself  to  sleep,  and,  when  he  awoke, 
found  that  he  had  been  asleep  for  eight  minutes.  Instantly,  as 
he  tells,  he  looked  for  an  opportunity  of  giving  it  to  a  patient; 
and  one  just  then  coming  in,  a  stout,  healthy  man,  he  induced 
him  to  inhale,  made  him  quite  insensible,  and  drew  his  tooth 
without  his  having  the  least  consciousness  of  what  was  done. 

But  the  great  step  had  yet  to  be  made  —  the  step  which  Wells 
would  have  tried  to  make  if  his  test  experiment  had  not  failed. 
Clearly,  operations  as  swift  as  that  of  tooth-drawing  might  be 
rendered  painless,  but  could  it  be  right  to  incur  the  risk  of  in- 
sensibility long  enough  and  deep  enough  for  a  large  surgical 
operation?    It  was  generally  believed  that  in  such  insensibility 


382  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

there  was  serious  danger  to  life.  Was  it  really  so?  Jackson 
advised  Morton  to  ask  Dr.  J.  C.  Warren  to  let  him  try,  and  War- 
ren dared  to  let  him.  It  is  hard  now  to  think  how  bold  the 
enterprise  must  have  seemed  to  those  who  were  capable  of 
thinking  accurately  on  the  facts  then  known. 

The  first  trial  was  made  on  the  16th  of  October,  1846.  Mor- 
ton gave  the  ether  to  a  patient  in  the  Massachusetts  General 
Hospital,  and  Dr.  Warren  removed  a  tumor  from  his  neck.  The 
result  was  not  complete  success ;  the  patient  hardly  felt  the  pain 
of  cutting,  but  he  was  aware  that  the  operation  was  being  per- 
formed. On  the  next  day,  in  a  severer  operation  by  Dr.  Hay- 
ward,  the  success  was  perfect;  the  patient  felt  nothing,  and  in 
long  insensibility  there  was  no  appearance  of  danger  to  life. 

The  discovery  might  already  be  deemed  complete,  for  the 
trials  of  the  next  following  days  had  the  same  success,  and 
thence  onwards  the  use  of  the  ether  extended  over  constantly 
widening  fields.  A  coarse  but  feeble  opposition  was  raised  by 
some  American  dentists;  a  few  surgeons  were  over-cautious  in 
their  warnings  against  suspected  dangers ;  a  few  maintained  that 
pain  was  very  useful,  necessary  perhaps  to  sound  healing;  some 
were  hindered  by  their  dislike  of  the  patent  which  Morton  and 
Jackson  took  out;  but  as  fast  as  the  news  could  be  carried  from 
one  continent  to  another,  and  from  town  to  town,  so  fast  did  the 
use  of  ether  spread.  It  might  almost  be  said  that  in  every  place, 
at  least  in  Europe,  where  the  discovery  was  promoted  more 
quickly  than  in  America,  the  month  might  be  named  before 
which  all  operative  surgery  was  agonizing,  and  after  which  it 
was  painless. 

But  there  were  other  great  pains  yet  to  be  prevented,  the  pains 
of  childbirth.  For  escape  from  these  the  honor  and  deep  grati- 
tude are  due  to  Sir  James  Simpson.  N'o  energy,  or  knowledge, 
or  power  of  language  less  than  his  could  have  overcome  the  fears 
that  the  insensibility,  which  was  proved  to  be  harmless  in  sur- 
gical operations  and  their  consequences,  should  be  often  fatal  or 
very  mischievous  in  parturition.  And  to  these  fears  were  added 
a  crowd  of  pious  protests  (raised,  for  the  most  part,  by  men) 
against  so  gross  an  interference  as  this  seemed  with  the  ordained 
course  of  human  nature.  Simpson,  with  equal  force  of  words 
and  work,  beat  all  down;  and  by  his  adoption  of  chloroform  as 
a  substitute  for  ether  promoted  the  whole  use  of  anaesthetics. 


THE    DISCOVERY    OF   ANESTHETICS  383 

Ether  and  chloroform  seemed  to  supply  all  that  could  be 
wished  from  anesthetics.  The  range  of  their  utility  extended; 
the  only  question  was  as  to  their  respective  advantages,  a  ques- 
tion still  unsettled.  Their  potency  was  found  absolute,  their 
safety  very  nearly  complete,  and,  after  the  death  of  Wells  in 
1848,  nitrous  oxide  was  soon  neglected  and  almost  forgotten. 
Thus  it  remained  till  1862,  nearly  seventeen  years,  when  Mr. 
Colton,  who  still  continued  lecturing  and  giving  the  gas  "for 
fun,^'  was  at  New  Haven,  Connecticut.  He  had  often  told  what 
Wells  had  done  with  nitrous  oxide  at  Hartford,  and  he  wanted 
other  dentists  to  use  it,  but  none  seemed  to  care  for  it  till,  at 
New  Britain,  Dr.  Dunham  asked  him  to  give  it  to  a  patient  to 
whom  it  was  thought  the  ether  might  be  dangerous.  The  result 
was  excellent,  and  in  1863  Dr.  Smith,  of  New  Haven,  substi- 
tuted the  nitrous  oxide  for  ether  in  his  practice  and  used  it  very 
frequently.  In  the  nine  months  following  his  first  use  of  it,  he 
extracted  without  pain  nearly  4,000  teeth.  Colton,  in  the  fol- 
lowing year,  associated  himself  with  a  dentist  in  New  York  and 
established  the  Colton  Dental  Association,  where  the  gas  was 
given  to  many  thousands  more.  Still,  its  use  was  very  slowly 
admitted.  Some  called  it  dangerous,  others  were,  content  with 
chloroform  and  ether,  others  said  that  the  short  pangs  of  tooth- 
drawing  had  better  be  endured.  But  in  1867  Mr.  Colton  came 
to  Paris  and  Dr.  Evans  at  once  promoted  his  plan.  In  1868  he 
came  to  London  and,  after  careful  study  of  it  at  the  Dental  Hos- 
pital, the  nitrous  oxide  was  speedily  adopted,  both  by  dentists 
and  by  the  administrators  of  angesthetics.  By  this  time  it  has 
saved  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people  from  the  sharp  pains  of 
all  kinds  of  operations  on  the  teeth  and  of  a  great  number  of  the 
surgical  operations  that  can  be  quickly  done. 

Such  is  the  history  of  the  discovery  of  the  use  of  anaesthetics. 
Probably,  none  has  ever  added  so  largely  to  that  part  of  happi- 
ness which  consists  in  the  escape  from  pain.  Past  all  counting 
is  the  sum  of  happiness  enjoyed  by  the  millions  who,  in  the  last 
three-and-thirty  years,  have  escaped  the  pains  that  were  inevit- 
able in  surgical  operations;  pains  made  more  terrible  by  appre- 
hension, more  keen  by  close  attention;  sometimes  awful  in  a 
swift  agony,  sometimes  prolonged  beyond  even  the  most  patient 
endurance,  and  then  renewed  in  memory  and  terrible  in  dreams. 
These  will  never  be  felt  again.     But  the  value  of  the  discovery  is 


384  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

not  limited  by  the  abolition  of  these  pains  or  the  pains  of  child- 
birth. It  would  need  a  long  essay  to  tell  how  it  has  enlarged 
the  field  of  useful  surgery,  making  many  things  easy  that  were 
diflQcult,  many  safe  that  were  too  perilous,  many  practicable  that 
were  nearly  impossible.  And,  yet  more  variously,  the  discovery 
has  brought  happiness  in  the  relief  of  some  of  the  intensest  pains 
of  sickness,  in  quieting  convulsion,  in  helping  to  the  discrimina- 
tion of  obscure  diseases.  The  tale  of  its  utility  would  not  end 
here ;  another  essay  might  tell  its  multiform  uses  in  the  study  of 
physiology,  reaching  even  to  that  of  the  elemental  processes  in 
plants,  for  these,  as  Claude  Bernard  has  shown,  may  be  com- 
pletely for  a  time  suspended  in  the  sleep  produced  by  chloroform 
or  ether. 

And  now,  what  of  the  discoverers  ?*  What  did  time  bring  to 
those  who  brought  so  great  happiness  to  mankind? 

*  *  * 

Probably  most  people  would  agree  that  Long,  Wells,  Morton 
and  Jackson  deserved  rewards,  which  none  of  the  four  received. 
But  that  which  the  controversy  and  the  patent  and  the  employ- 
ment of  legal  advisers  made  it  necessary  to  determine  was, 
whether  more  than  one  deserved  reward,  and,  if  more  than  one, 
the  proportion  to  be  assigned  to  each.  Here  was  the  difficulty. 
The  French  Academy  of  Sciences  in  1850  granted  equal  shares 
in  the  Monthyon  Prize  to  Jackson  and  to  Morton;  but  Long 
was  unknown  to  them,  and,  at  the  time  of  the  award,  the  value 
of  nitrous  oxide  was  so  hidden  by  the  greater  value  of  ether  that 

*  Those  only  are  here  reckoned  as  discoverers  from  whose  work  may  be 
traced  not  merely  what  might  have  been  the  beginning  of  the  discovery,  but 
the  continuous  history  of  events  consequent  upon  the  evidence  of  its  truth. 
Long,  it  is  true,  might  under  this  rule  be  excluded ;  yet  his  work  cannot 
fairly  be  separated  from  the  history.  Of  course,  in  this,  as  in  every  sim- 
ilar case,  there  were  some  who  maintained  that  there  was  nothing  new  in 
it.  Before  1842  there  were  many  instances  in  which  persons  underwent 
operations  during  insensibility.  There  may  be  very  reasonable  doubts 
about  what  is  told  of  the  ancient  uses  of  Indian  hemp,  and  mandragora ; 
but  most  of  those  who  saw  much  surgery  before  1846  must  have  seen 
operations  done  on  patients  during  insensibility  produced  by  narcotics, 
dead-drunkenness,  mesmerism,  large  losses  of  blood,  or  other  uncertain  and 
often  impracticable  methods.  Besides,  there  were  many  guesses  and  sug- 
gestions for  making  operations  painless.  But  they  were  all  fruitless :  and 
they  fail  at  that  which  may  be  a  fair  test  for  most  of  the  claims  of  discov- 
erers —  the  test  of  consequent  and  continuous  history.  When  honor  is 
claimed  for  the  authors  of  such  fruitless  works  as  these,  it  may  fairly  be 
said  that  blame  rather  than  praise  is  due  to  them.  Having  seen  so  far  as 
they  profess,  they  should  not  have  rested  till  they  could  see  much 
further. 


THE    DISCOVERY    OF   ANESTHETICS  385 

Wells^  claim  was  set  aside.  A  memorial  colmim  was  erected 
at  Boston,  soon  after  Morton's  death  in  1868,  and  here  the 
difficulty  was  shirked  by  dedicating  the  column  to  the  discovery 
of  ether,  and  not  naming  the  discoverers.  The  difficulty  could 
not  be  thus  settled ;  and,  in  all  probability,  our  supposed  council 
of  four  or  five  would  not  solve  it.  One  would  prefer  the  claims 
of  absolute  priority ;  another  those  of  suggestive  science ;  another 
the  courage  of  bold  adventure;  sentiment  and  sympathy  would 
variously  affect  their  judgments.  And  if  we  suppose  that  they, 
like  the  American  Congress,  had  to  discuss  their  differences 
within  sound  of  such  controversies  as  followed  Morton's  first 
use  of  ether,  or  during  a  war  of  pamphlets,  or  under  burdens 
of  parliamentary  papers,  we  should  expect  that  their  clearest 
decision  would  be  that  a  just  decision  could  not  be  given,  and 
that  gratitude  must  die  if  it  had  to  wait  till  distributive  justice 
could  be  satisfied.  The  gloomy  fate  of  the  American  discov- 
erers makes  one  wish  that  gratitude  could  have  been  let  flow 
of  its  own  impulse;  it  would  have  done  less  wrong  than  the 
desire  for  justice  did.  A  lesson  of  the  whole  story  is  that 
gratitude  and  justice  are  often  incompatible;  and  that  when 
they  conflict,  then,  usually,  "  the  more  right  the  more  hurt.'' 

Another  lesson,  which  has  been  taught  in  the  history  of  many 
other  discoveries,  is  clear  in  this  —  the  lesson  that  great  truths 
may  be  very  near  us  and  yet  be  not  discerned.  Of  course,  the 
way  to  the  discovery  of  anaesthetics  was  much  more  difficult 
than  it  now  seems.  It  was  very  difficult  to  produce 
complete  insensibility  with  nitrous  oxide  till  it  could 
be  given  undiluted  and  unmixed;  this  required  much  better 
apparatus  than  Davy  or  Wells  had;  and  it  was  hardly  possible 
to  make  such  apparatus  till  india-rubber  manufactures  were 
improved.  It  was  very  difficult  to  believe  that  profound  and 
long  insensibility  could  be  safe,  or  that  the  appearances  of  im- 
pending death  were  altogether  fallacious.  Bold  as  Davy  was, 
bold  even  to  recklessness  in  his  experiments  on  himself,  he  would 
not  have  ventured  to  produce  deliberately  in  any  one  a  state 
so  like  a  flnal  suffocation  as  we  now  look  at  unmoved.  It  was 
a  boldness  not  of  knowledge  that  first  made  light  of  such  signs 
of  d3dng,  and  found  that  what  looked  like  a  sleep  of  death  was 
as  safe  as  the  beginning  of  a  night's  rest.  Still,  with  all  fair 
allowance  for  these  and  other  difficulties,  we  cannot  but  see  and 
25 


386  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

wonder  that  for  more  than  forty  years  of  the  nineteenth  century 
a  great  truth  lay  unobserved,  though  it  was  covered  with  only 
so  thin  a  veil  that  a  careful  physiological  research  must  have 
discovered  it.  The  discovery  ought  to  have  been  made  by  fol- 
lowing the  suggestion  of  Davy.  The  book  in  which  he  wrote 
that  "nitrous  oxide  —  capable  of  destroying  physical  pain  — 
may  probably  be  used  with  advantage  during  surgical  opera- 
tions/^ was  widely  read,  and  it  would  be  hard  to  name  a  man 
of  science  more  widely  known  and  talked  of  than  he  was. 
Within  two  years  of  the  publication  of  his  Researches  he  was 
appointed  to  a  professorship  in  the  Eoyal  Institution;  and  in 
the  next  year  he  was  a  favorite  in  the  fashionable  as  well  as  in 
the  scientific  world;  and  all  his  life  through  he  was  intimately 
associated  with  those  among  whom  all  the  various  motives  for 
desiring  to  find  some  means  "  capable  of  destroying  physical 
pain  "  would  be  most  strongly  felt.  Curiosity,  the  love  of  truth, 
the  love  of  marvels,  the  desire  of  ease,  self-interest,  benevolence, 
—  all  were  alert  in  the  minds  of  men  and  women  who  knew  and 
trusted  whatever  Davy  said  or  wrote,  but  not  one  mind  was 
earnestly  directed  to  the  rare  promise  which  his  words  con- 
tained. His  own  mind  was  turned  with  its  full  force  to  other 
studies;  the  interest  in  surgery  which  he  may  have  felt  during 
his  apprenticeship  at  Bodmin  was  lost  in  his  devotion  to  poetry, 
philosophy,  and  natural  science,  and  there  is  no  evidence  that 
he.  urged  others  to  undertake  the  study  which  he  left.  Even 
his  biographers,  his  brother,  Dr.  John  Davy,  and  his  intimate 
friend,  Dr.  Paris,  both  of  whom  were  very  capable  physicians 
and  men  of  active  intellect,  say  nothing  of  his  suggestion  of 
the  use  of  nitrous  oxide.  It  was  overlooked  and  utterly  for- 
gotten till  the  prophecy  was  fulfilled  by  those  who  had  never 
heard  of  it.  The  same  may  be  said  of  what  Faraday,  if  it 
were  he,  wrote  of  the  influence  of  sulphuric  ether.  All  was 
soon  forgotten,  and  the  clue  to  the  discovery,  which  would 
have  been  far  easier  with  ether  than  with  nitrous  oxide,  for  it 
needed  no  apparatus  and  even  required  mixture  with  air,  was 
again  lost.  One  could  have  wished  that  the  honor  of  bringing 
so  great  a  boon  to  men,  and  so  great  a  help  in  the  pursuit  of 
knowledge,  had  been  won  by  some  of  those  who  were  giving 
themselves  with  careful  cultivation  to  the  search  for  truth  as 
for  its  own  sake.     But  it  was  not  so:  science  was  utterly  at 


THE    DISCOVERY   OF   ANESTHETICS  387 

fault;  and  it  was  shown  that  in  the  search  for  truth  there  are 
contingencies  in  which  men  of  ready  belief  and  rough  enterprise, 
seeking  for  mere  utility  even  with  selfish  purposes,  can  achieve 
more  than  those  who  restrain  themselves  within  the  range  of 
what  seems  reasonable. 

Such  instances  of  delay  in  the  discovery  of  truth  are  always 
wondered  at,  but  they  are  not  uncommon.  Long  before  Jenner 
demonstrated  the  utility  of  vaccination  it  was  known  in  Glou- 
cestershire that  they  who  had  had  cow-pox  could  not  catch  the 
•smallpox.  For  some  years  before  the  invention  of  electric  tel- 
egraphy. Professor  Gumming  of  Cambridge,  when  describing 
to  his  class  the  then  recent  discovery  by  Oersted  of  the  power 
of  an  electric  current  to  deflect  a  magnet,  used  to  say,  "  Here, 
then,  are  the  elements  which  would  excellently  serve  for  a  sys- 
tem of  telegraphy .^^  Yet  none  of  his  hearers,  active,  and  cul- 
tivated as  they  were,  were  moved  from  the  routine  of  study. 
Laennec  quotes  a  sentence  from  Hippocrates  which,  if  it  had  been 
worthily  studied,  might  have  led  to  the  full  discovery  of  auscul- 
tation [trained  listening  to  sounds].  Thus  it  often  has  been; 
and  few  prophecies  can  be  safer  than  that  our  successors  will 
wonder  at  us  as  we  do  at  those  before  us;  will  wonder  that  we 
did  not  discern  the  great  truths  which  they  will  say  were  all 
around  us,  within  reach  of  any  clear,  earnest  mind. 

They  will  wonder,  too,  as  we  may,  when  we  study  the  history 
of  the  discovery  of  anaesthetics,  at  the  quietude  with  which  habit- 
ual miseries  are  borne ;  at  the  very  faint  impulse  to  action  which 
is  given  by  even  great  necessities  when  they  are  habitual.  Think- 
ing of  the  pain  of  surgical  operations,  one  would  think  that 
men  would  have  rushed  after  the  barest  chance  of  putting  an 
end  to  it  as  they  would  have  rushed  to  escape  from  starving. 
But  it  was  not  so;  the  misery  was  so  frequent,  so  nearly  cus- 
tomary, deemed  so  inevitable,  that,  though  it  excited  horror  when 
it  was  talked  of,  it  did  not  excite  to  strenuous  action.  Eemedies 
were  wished  for  and  sometimes  tried,  but  all  was  done  vaguely 
and  faintly;  there  was  neither  hope  enough  to  excite  intense 
desire,  nor  desire  enough  to  encourage  hope;  the  misery  was 
"put  up  with"  just  as  we  now  put  up  with  typhoid  fever  and 
sea-sickness,  with  local  floods  and  droughts,  with  the  waste  of 
health  and  wealth  in  the  pollution  of  rivers,  with  hideous  noises 
and  foul  smells,  and  many  other  miseries.     Our  successors,  when 


388  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

they  have  remedied  or  prevented  them,  will  look  back  on  them 
with  horror,  and  on  us  with  wonder  and  contempt  for  what  they 
will  call  our  idleness  or  blindness  or  indifference  to  suffering. 


THE  ART   OF   PROLONGING   LIFE 


THE  ART  OF  PROLONGING  LIFE. 

By  ROBSON  ROOSE,  M.  D. 

THE  doctrine  that  a  short  life  is  a  sign  of  divine  favor  has 
never  been  accepted  by  the  majority  of  mankind.  Philos- 
ophers have  vied  with  each  other  in  depicting  the  evils 
and  miseries  incidental  to  existence,  and  the  truth  of  their 
descriptions  has  often  been  sorrowfully  admitted,  but  they  have 
failed  to  dislodge,  or  even  seriously  diminish,  that  desire  for 
long  life  which  has  been  deeply  implanted  within  the  hearts  of 
men.  The  question  whether  life  be  worth  living  has  been  de- 
cided by  a  majority  far  too  great  to  admit  of  any  doubt  upon 
the  subject,  and  the  voices  of  those  who  would  fain  reply  in  the 
negative  are  drowned  amid  the  chorus  of  assent.  Longevity, 
indeed,  has  come  to  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  grand  prizes  of 
human  existence,  and  reason  has  again  and  again  suggested 
the  inquiry  whether  care  or  skill  can  increase  the  chances  of 
acquiring  it,  and  can  make  old  age,  when  granted,  as  com- 
fortable and  happy  as  any  other  stage  of  our  existence. 

From  very  early  times  the  art  of  prolonging  life,  and  the 
subject  of  longevity,  have  engaged  the  attention  of  thinkers 
and  essayists;  and  some  may  perhaps  contend  that  these  topics, 
admittedly  full  of  interest,  have  been  thoroughly  exhausted. 
It  is  true  that  the  art  in  question  has  long  been  recognized 
and  practiced,  but  the  science  upon  which  it  really  depends  is 
of  quite  modern  origin.  New  facts  connected  with  longevity 
have,  moreover,  been  collected  within  the  last  few  years,  and 
some  of  these  I  propose  to  examine,  and  further  to  inquire 
whether  they  teach  us  any  fresh  means  whereby  life  may  be 
maintained  and  prolonged. 

But,  before  entering  upon  the  immediate  subject,  there  are 
several  preliminary  questions  which  demand  a  brief  examination, 
ond  the  first  that  suggests  itself  is.  What  is  the  natural  dura- 
tion  of  human  life?     This  oft-repeated  question  has  received 


390  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

many  diiferent  answers;  and  inquiry  has  been  stimulated  by 
skepticism  as  to  their  truth.  The  late  Sir  George  Cornewall 
Lewis  expressed  the  opinion  that  one  hundred  years  must  be 
regarded  as  a  limit  which  very  few,  if  indeed  any,  human  beings 
succeed  in  reaching,  and  he  supported  this  view  by  several  co- 
gent reasons.  He  pointed  out  that  almost  all  the  alleged  in- 
stances of  abnormal  longevity  occurred  among  the  humbler 
classes,  and  that  it  was  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  obtain  any 
exact  information  as  to  the  date  of  birth,  and  to  identify  the 
individuals  with  any  written  statements  that  might  be  forth- 
coming. He  laid  particular  stress  upon  the  fact  that  similar 
instances  were  altogether  absent  among  the  higher  classes,  with 
regard  to  whom  trustworthy  documentary  evidence  was  almost 
always  obtainable.  He  thought  that  the  higher  the  rank  the 
more  favorable  would  the  conditions  be  for  the  attainment  of  a 
long  life.  In  this  latter  supposition,  however.  Sir  George  Lewis 
was  probably  mistaken:  the  comforts  and  luxuries  appertaining 
to  wealth  and  high  social  rank  are  too  often  counterbalanced 
by  cares  and  anxieties,  and  by  modes  of  living  inconsistent 
with  the  maintenance  of  health,  and  therefore  with  the  pro- 
longation of  life.  In  the  introduction  to  his  work  on  "  Human 
Longevity,"  Easton  says,  "  It  is  not  the  rich  or  great  .  .  . 
that  become  old,  but  such  as  use  much  exercise,  are  exposed  to 
the  fresh  air,  and  whose  food  is  plain  and  moderate  —  as  far- 
mers, gardeners,  fishermen,  laborers,  soldiers,  and  such  men  as 
perhaps  never  employed  their  thoughts  on  the  means  used  to 
promote  longevity." 

The  French  naturalist,  Buffon,  believed  that  if  accidental 
causes  could  be  excluded,  the  normal  duration  of  human  life 
would  be  between  ninety  and  one  hundred  years,  and  he  sug- 
gested that  it  might  be  measured  (in  animal  as  well  as  in  man) 
by  the  period  of  growth,  to  which  it  stood  in  a  certain  propor- 
tion. He  imagined  that  every  animal  might  live  for  six  or  seven 
times  as  many  years  as  were  requisite  for  the  completion  of  its 
growth.  But  this  calculation  is  not  in  harmony  with  facts,  so 
far,  at  least,  as  man  is  concerned.  His  period  of  growth  can- 
not be  estimated  at  less  than  twenty  years ;  and  if  we  take  the 
lower  of  the  two  multipliers,  we  get  a  number  which,  in  the  light 
of  modern  evidence,  cannot  be  accepted  as  attainable.     If  the 


THE    ART    OF    PROLONGING    LIFE  391 

period  of  growth  be  multiplied  by  five^  the  result  will  in  all  prob- 
ability not  be  far  from  the  truth. 

If  we  seek  historical  evidence,  and  from  it  attempt  to  discover 
the  extreme  limit  of  human  life,  we  are  puzzled  at  the  differences 
in  the  ages  said  to  have  been  attained.  The  longevity  of  the 
antediluvian  patriarchs  when  contrasted  with  our  modern  ex- 
perience seems  incredible.  When  w^e  look  at  an  individual,  say 
ninet}^  years  of  age,  taking  even  the  most  favorable  specimen,  a 
prolongation  of  life  to  ten  times  that  number  of  jeais  would 
appear  too  absurd  even  to  dream  about.  There  is  certainly  no 
physiological  reason  why  the  ages  assigned  to  the  patriarchs 
should  not  have  been  attained,  and  it  is  useless  to  discuss  the 
subject,  for  we  know  very  little  of  the  conditions  under  which 
they  lived.  It  is  interesting  to  notice  that  after  the  Flood  there 
was  a  gradual  decrease  in  the  duration  of  life.  Abraham  is 
recorded  to  have  died  at  one  hundred  and  seventy-five;  Joshua, 
some  five  hundred  years  later,  "  waxed  old  and  stricken  in  age '' 
shortly  before  his  death  at  one  hundred  and  ten  years;  and  his 
predecessor,  Moses,  to  whom  one  hundred  and  twenty  years  are 
assigned,  is  believed  to  have  estimated  the  life  of  man  at  three- 
score years  and  ten  —  a  measure  nowadays  pretty  generally  ac- 
cepted. 

There  is  no  reason  for  believing  that  the  extreme  limit  of 
human  life  in  the  time  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans  differed  ma- 
terially from  that  w^hich  agrees  with  modern  experience.  Stories 
of  the  attainment  of  such  ages  as  one  hundred  and  twenty  years 
and  upward  may  be  placed  in  the  same  category  as  the  reputed 
longevity  of  Henry  Jenkins,  Thomas  Parr,  Lady  Desmond,  and 
a  host  of  others.  With  regard  to  later  times,-  such  as  the  middle 
ages,  there  are  no  precise  data  upon  which  any  statements  can 
be  based,  but  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  average 
duration  of  life  was  decidedly  less  than  it  is  at  present.  The 
extreme  limit,  indeed,  three  or  four  centuries  ago,  would  appear 
to  have  been  much  lower  than  in  the  nineteenth  century.  At  the 
request  of  Mr.  Thoms,  Sir  J.  Duffus  Hardy  investigated  the 
subject  of  the  longevity  of  man  in  the  thirteenth,  fourteenth, 
fifteenth,  and  sixteenth  centuries,  and  his  researches  led  him  to 
believe  that  persons  seldom  reached  the  age  of  eighty.  He  never 
met  with  a  trustworthy  record  of  a  person  who  exceeclerl  that 


B92  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

To  bring  the  investigation  down  to  quite  recent  times,  1  can 
not  do  better  than  utilize  the  researclies  of  Dr.  Humphry, 
Professor  of  Surgery  at  Cambridge.  In  1886  he  obtained  par- 
ticulars relating  to  fifty-two  individuals  then  living  and  said  to 
be  one  hundred  years  old  and  upward.  The  oldest  among  them 
claimed  to  be  one  hundred  and  eight,  the  next  one  hundred  and 
six,  while  the  average  amounted  to  a  little  more  than  one  hun- 
dred and  two  years.  Many  interesting  facts  connected  with  the 
habits  and  mode  of  life  of  these  individuals  were  obtained  by  Dr. 
Humphry,  and  will  be  referred  to  in  subsequent  paragraphs. 

A  short  account  of  the  experience  of  a  few  life-assurance  com- 
panies will  conclude  this  part  of  my  subject.  Mr.  Thoms  tells 
us  that  down  to  1872  the  records  of  the  companies  showed  that 
one  death  among  the  assured  had  occurred  at  one  hundred  and 
three,  one  in  the  one  hundredth,  and  three  in  the  ninety-ninth 
year.  The  experience  of  the  National  Debt  Office,  according  to 
the  same  authority,  gave  two  cases  in  which  the  evidence  could 
be  regarded  as  perfect ;  one  of  these  died  in  the  one  hundred  and 
second  year,  and  the  other  had  just  completed  that  number.  In 
the  tables  published  by  the  Institute  of  Actuaries,  and  giving  the 
mortality  experience  down  to  1863  of  twenty  life-assurance  com- 
panies, the  highest  age  at  death  is  recorded  as  ninety-nine;  and 
I  am  informed  by  the  secretary  of  the  Edinburgh  Life  Office 
that  from  1863  onward  that  age  had  not  been  exceeded  in  his 
experience.  In  the  valuation  schedules,  which  show  the  highest 
ages  of  existing  lives  in  various  offices,  the  ages  range  from 
ninety-two  to  ninety-five.  It  is  true  that  one  office  which  has  a 
large  business  among  the  industrial  classes  reports  lives  at  one 
hundred  and  three,  and  in  one  instance  at  one  hundred  and 
seven;  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  among  those  classes  the 
ages  are  not  nearly  so  well  authenticated  as  among  those  who 
assure  for  substantial  sums.  There  is,  moreover,  another  source 
of  error  connected  with  the  valuation  schedules.  When  a  given 
life  is  not  considered  to  be  equal  to  the  average,  a  certain  num- 
ber of  years  is  added  to  the  age,  and  the  premium  is  charged 
at  the  age  which  results  from  this  addition.  It  follows,  there- 
fore, that  in  some  cases  the  ages  given  in  the  schedules  are 
greater  by  some  years  than  they  really  are. 

Taking  into  consideration  the  facts  thus  rapidly  passed  under 
review,  it  must,  I  think,  be  admitted  that  the  natural  limit  of 


THE   ART   OF   PROLONGING   LIFE  393 

human  existence  is  that  assigned  to  it  in  the  book  of  Ecclesias- 
ticns,  "  The  number  of  a  man^s  days  at  the  most  are  an  hundred 
years ''  (chapter  xviii.  9).  In  a  very  small  number  of  cases  this 
limit  is  exceeded,  but  only  by  a  very  few  years.  Mr.  Thoms^ 
investigations  conclusively  show  that  trustworthy  evidence  of 
one  hundred  and  ten  years  having  been  reached  is  altogether 
absent.  Future  generations  will  be  able  to  verify  or  reject  state- 
ments in  all  alleged  cases  of  longevity.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  previous  to  the  year  1836  there  was  no  registration  of  births, 
but  only  of  baptisms,  and  that  the  registers  were  kept  in  the 
churches,  and  contained  only  the  names  of  those  therein  bap- 
tized. 

Whatever  number  of  years  may  be  taken  as  representing  the 
natural  term  of  human  life,  whether  threescore  and  ten  or  a  cen- 
tury be  regarded  as  such,  we  are  confronted  by  the  fact  that  only 
one-fourth  of  our  population  attains  the  former  age,  and  that 
only  about  fifteen  in  one  hundred  thousand  become  centenarians. 
It  is  beyond  the  scope  of  this  article  to  discuss  the  causes  of 
premature  mortality,  but  the  conditions  favorable  to  longevity, 
and  the  causes  to  which  length  of  days  has  been  assigned,  are 
closely  connected  with  its  subject. 

A  capability  of  attaining  old  age  is  very  often  handed  down 
from  one  generation  to  another,  and  heredity  is  probably  the 
most  powerful  factor  in  connection  with  longevity.  A  necessary 
condition  of  reaching  advanced  age  is  the  possession  of  sound 
bodily  organs,  and  such  an  endowment  is  eminently  capable  of 
transmission.  Instances  of  longevity  characterizing  several 
generations  are  frequently  brought  to  notice.  A  recent  and  most 
interesting  example  of  transmitted  longevity  is  that  of  the  vet- 
eran guardian  of  the  public  health.  Sir  Edwin  Chadwick,  who 
was  entertained  at  a  public  dinner  a  few  weeks  ago  on  the  occa- 
sion of  his  reaching  his  ninetieth  year.  He  informed  his  enter- 
tainers that  his  father  died  at  the  age  of  eighty-four,  one  of  his 
grandfathers  at  ninety-five,  and  that  two  more  remote  ancestors 
were  centenarians. 

It  is  difficult  to  estimate  the  influence  of  other  contingencies 
which  affect  longevity.  With  regard  to  sex,  Hufeland's  opinion 
was  that  women  were  more  likely  than  men  to  become  old,  but 
that  instances  of  extreme  longevity  were  more  frequent  among 
men.    This  opinion  is  to  some  extent  borne  out  by  Dr.  Humph- 


394  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

ry's  statistics:  of  fifty-two  centenarians,  thirty-six  were  women. 
Marriage  would  appeair  to  be  conducive  to  longevity.  A  well- 
known  French  savant.  Dr.  Bertillon,  states  that  a  bachelor  of 
twenty-five  is  not  a  better  life  than  a  married  man  of  forty-five, 
and  he  attributes  the  difference  in  favor  of  married  people  to  the 
fact  that  they  take  more  care  of  themselves,  and  lead  more  regu- 
lar lives  than  those  who  have  no  such  tie.  '  It  must,  however, 
be  remembered  that  the  mere  fact  of  marrying  indicates  superior 
vitality  and  vigor,  and  the  ranks  of  the  unmarried  are  largely 
filled  by  the  physically  unfit. 

In  considering  occupations  as  they  are  likely  to  affect  lon- 
gevity, those  which  obviously  tend  to  shorten  life  need  not  be 
considered.  With  respect  to  the  learned  professions,  it  would 
appear  that  among  the  clergy  the  average  of  life  is  beyond  that 
of  any  similar  class.  It  is  improbable  that  this  average  will  be 
maintained  for  the  future;  the  duties  and  anxieties  imposed 
upon  the  clergy  of  the  present  generation  place  them  in  a  very 
different  position  from  that  of  their  predecessors.  Among  law- 
yers there  have  been  several  eminent  judges  who  attained  a  great 
age,  and  the  rank  and  file  of  the  profession  are  also  characterized 
by  a  decided  tendency  to  longevity.  The  medical  profession  sup- 
plies but  few  instances  of  extreme  old  age,  and  the  average 
duration  of  life  among  its  members  is  decidedly  low,  a  fact 
which  can  be  easily  accounted  for.  Broken  rest,  hard  work, 
anxieties,  exposure  to  weather  and  to  the  risks  of  infection  can 
not  fail  to  exert  an  injurious  influence  upon  health.  Ko  definite 
conclusions  can  be  arrived  at  with  regard  to  the  average  lon- 
gevity of  literary  and  scientific  men,  but  it  might  be  supposed 
that  those  among  them  who  are  not  harassed  by  anxieties  and 
enjoy  fair  health  would  probably  reach  old  age.  As  a  general 
rule,  the  duration  of  life  is  not  shortened  by  literary  pursuits. 
A  man  may  worry  himself  to  death  over  his  books,  or,  when  tired 
of  them,  may  seek  recreation  in  pursuits  destructive  to  health; 
but  application  to  literary  work  tends  to  produce  cheerfulness, 
and  to  prolong  rather  than  shorten  the  life  even  of  an  infirm 
man:  In  Prof.  Humphry's  "  Eeport  on  Aged  Persons/'  contain- 
ing an  account  of  eight  hundred  and  twenty-four  individuals  of 
both  sexes,  and  between  the  ages  of  eighty  and  one  hundred,  it 
is  stated  that  forty-eight  per  cent,  were  poor,  forty-two  per  cent, 
were  in  comfortable  circumstances,  and  only  ten  per  cent,  were 


THE   AUT   OF   PROLONGING   LIFE  395 

described  as  being  in  affluent  circumstances.  Dr.  Humphry 
points  out  that  these  ratios  "must  not  be  regarded  as  repre- 
senting the  relations  of  poverty  and  affluence  to  longevity,  be- 
cause, in  the  first  place,  the  poor  at  all  ages  and  in  all  districts 
bear  a  large  proportion  to  the  affluent ;  and,  secondly,  the  returns 
are  largely  made  from  the  lower  and  middle  classes,  and  in 
many  instances  from  the  inmates  of  union  work-houses,  where  a 
good  number  of  aged  people  are  found."  It  must  also  be  noticed 
that  the  "  past  life-history "  of  these  individuals  showed  that 
the  greater  proportion  (fifty-five  per  cent.)  "had  lived  in  com^ 
fortable  circumstances,"  and  that  only  thirty-five  per  cent,  had 
been  poor. 

Merely  to  enumerate  the  causes  to  which  longevity  has  been 
attributed  in  attempting  to  account  for  individual  cases  would 
be  a  task  of  some  magnitude;  it  will  be  sufficient  to  mention  a 
few  somewhat  probable  theories.  Moderation  in  eating  and 
drinking  is  often  declared  to  be  a  cause  of  longevity,  and  the 
assertion  is  fully  corroborated  by  Dr.  Humphry's  inquiries.  Of 
his  fifty-two  centenarians,  twelve  were  recorded  as  total  abstain- 
ers from  alcoholic  drinks  throughout  life,  or  for  long  periods; 
twenty  had  taken  very  little  alcohol ;  eight  were  reported  as  mod- 
erate in  their  use  of  it ;  and  only  three  habitually  indulged  in  it. 
It  is  quite  true  that  a  few  persons  who  must  be  classified  as 
drunkards  live  to  be  very  old;  but  these  are  exceptions  to  the 
general  rule,  and  such  cases  appear  to  be  more  frequent  than 
they  really  are,  because  they  are  often  brought  to  notice  by  those 
who  find  encouragement  from  such  examples.  The  habit  of 
temperance  in  food,  good  powers  of  digestion,  and  soundness  of 
sleep  are  other  main  characteristics  of  most  of  those  who  attain 
advanced  years,  and  m'ay  be  regarded  as  causes  of  longevity. 
Not  a  few  old  persons  are  found  on  inquiry  to  take  credit  to 
themselves  for  their  own  condition,  and  to  attribute  it  to  some 
remarkable  peculiarity  in  their  habits  or  mode  of  life.  It  is  said 
that  Lord  Mansfield,  who  reached  the  age  of  eighty-nine,  was 
wont  to  inquire  into  the  habits  of  life  of  all  aged  witnesses  who 
appeared  before  him,  and  that  only  in  one  habit,  namel}^,  that 
of  early  rising,  was  there  any  general  concurrence.  Health  is 
doubtless  often  promoted  by  early  rising,  but  the  habit  is  not 
necessarily  conducive  to  longevity.  It  is,  as  Sir  H.  Holland 
points  out,  more  probable  that  the  vigor  of  the  individuals  main- 


390  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

tains  the  habit  than  that  the  latter  alone  maintains  the  vitality. 

If  we  pass  from  probable  to  improbable  causes  of  longevity 
we  are  confronted  by  many  extravagant  assumptions.  Thus,  to 
take  only  a  few  examples,  the  immoderate  use  of  sugar  has  been 
regarded  not  only  as  a  panacea,  but  as  decidedly  conducive  to 
length  of  days.  Dr.  Slare,  a  physician  of  the  last  century,  has 
recorded  the  case  of  a  centenarian  who  used  to  mix  sugar  with 
all  his  food,  and  the  doctor  himself  was  so  convinced  of  the 
"  balsamic  virtue  "  of  this  substance  that  he  adopted  the  practice, 
and  boasted  of  his  health  and  strength  in  his  old  age.  Another 
member  of  the  same  profession  used  to  take  daily  doses  of 
tannin,  under  the  impression  that  the  tissues  of  the  body  would 
be  thereby  protected  from  decay.  His  life  was  protracted  beyond 
the  ordinary  span,  but  it  is  questionable  whether  the  tannin 
acted  in  the  desired  direction.  Lord  Combermere  thought  that 
his  good  health  and  advanced  years  were  due,  in  part  at  least, 
to  the  fact  that  he  always  wore  a  tight  belt  round  his  waist.  His 
lordship's  appetite  was  doubtless  thereby  kept  within  bounds; 
we  are  further  told  that  he  was  very  moderate  in  the  use  of  all 
fluids  as  drink.  Cleanliness  might  be  supposed  to  aid  in  pro- 
longing life,  yet  a  Mrs.  Lewson,  who  died  in  the  early  part  of 
this  century,  aged  one  hundred  and  six,  must  have  been  a  singu- 
larly dirty  person.  We  are  told  that  instead  of  washing  she 
smeared  her  face  with  lard,  and  asserted  that  "  people  who 
washed  always  caught  cold."  This  lady,  no  doubt,  was  fully 
persuaded  that  she  had  discovered  the  universal  medicine. 

Many  of  the  alchemists  attributed  the  power  of  prolonging 
life  to  certain  preparations  of  gold,  probably  under  the  idea  that 
the  permanence  of  the  metal  might  be  imparted  to  the  human 
system.  Descartes  is  said  to  have  favored  such  opinions;  he 
told  Sir  Kenelm  Digby  that,  although  he  would  not  venture  to 
promise  immortality,  he  was  certain  that  his  life  might  be 
lengthened  to  the  period  of  that  enjoyed  by  the  patriarchs.  His 
plan,  however,  seems  to  have  been  the  very  rational  and  simple 
one  of  checking  all  excesses  and  enjoining  punctual  and  frugal 
meals. 

Having  thus  endeavored  to  show  the  extent  to  which  human 
life  may  be  prolonged,  and  having  examined  some  of  the  causes 
or  antecedents  of  longevity,  the  last  subject  for  inquiry  is  the 
means  by  which  it  may  be  attained.    Certain  preliminary  condi- 


THE   ART    OF   PROLONGING    LIFE  397 

tions  are  obviously  requisite;  in  the  first  place  there  must  be  a 
sound  constitution  derived  from  healthy  ancestors,  and  in  the 
second  there  must  be  a  freedom  from  organic  disease  of  impor- 
tant organs.  Given  an  individual  who  has  reached  the  grand 
climacteric,  or  threescore  and  ten,  and  in  whom  these  two  condi- 
tions are  fulfilled,  the  means  best  adapted  to  maintain  and  pro- 
long his  life  constitute  the  question  to  be  solved.  It  has  been 
said  that  "  he  who  would  long  to  be  an  old  man  must  begin  early 
to  be  one,'^  but  very  few  persons  designedly  take  measures  in 
early  life  in  order  that  they  may  live  longer  than  their  fellows. 
The  whole  term  of  life  may  be  divided  into  the  three  main 
periods  of  growth  and  development,  of  maturity,  and  of  decline. 
No  hard  and  fast  line  can  be  drawn  between  these  two  latter 
phases  of  existence :  the  one  should  pass  gradually  into  the  other 
until  the  entire  picture  is  changed.  Diminished  conservative 
power  and  the  consequent  triumph  of  disintegrating  forces  are 
the  prominent  features  of  the  third  period,  which  begins  at 
different  times  in  different  individuals,  its  advent  being  mainly 
controlled  by  the  general  course  of  the  preceding  years.  The 
*^  turning  period,^'  also  known  as  the  "  climacteric  '^  or  "  middle 
age,^^  lies  between  forty-five  and  sixty;  the  period  beyond  may 
be  considered  as  belonging  to  advanced  life  or  old  age.  The 
majority  of  the  changes  characteristic  of  these  last  stages  are 
easily  recognizable.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  mention  the 
wrinkled  skin,  the  furrowed  face,  the  "  crow's  feet "  beneath  the 
eyes,  the  stooping  gait,  and  the  wasting  of  the  frame.  The 
senses,  notably  vision  and  hearing,  become  less  acute;  the  power 
of  digestion  is  lessened;  the  force  of  the  heart  is  diminished; 
the  lungs  are  less  permeable;  many  of  the  air-cells  lose  their 
elasticity  and  merge  into  each  other,  so  that  there  is  less  breath- 
ing surface  as  well  as  less  power.  Simultaneously  with  these 
changes  the  mind  may  present  signs  of  enf eeblement ;  but  in 
many  instances  its  powers  long  remain  in  marked  contrast  with 
those  of  the  body.  One  fact  connected  with  advanced  life  is  too 
often  neglected.  It  should  never  be  forgotten  that  while  the 
"  forces  in  use  "  at  that  period  are  easily  exhausted,  the  "  forces 
in  reserve '^  are  often  so  slight  as  to  be  unable  to  meet  the 
smallest  demand.  In  youth,  the  reserve  powers  are  superabun- 
dant; in  advanced  life,  they  are  reduced  to  a  minimum,  and  in 
some  instances  are  practically  non-existent.    The  recognition  of 


398  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

this  difference  is  an  all-important  guide  in  laying  down  rules  for 
conduct  in  old  age. 

In  order  to  prolong  life  and  at  the  same  time  to  enjoy  it, 
occupation  of  some  kind  is-  absolutely  necessary;  it  is  a  great 
mistake  to  suppose  that  idleness  is  conducive  to  longevity.  It  is 
at  all  times  better  to  wear  out  than  to  rust  out,  and  the  latter 
process  is  apt  to  be  speedily  accomplished.  Every  one  must  have 
met  with  individuals  who,  while  fully  occupied  till  sixty  or  even 
seventy  years  of  age,  remained  hale  and  strong,  but  aged  with 
marvelous  rapidity  after  relinquishing  work,  a  change  in  their 
mental  condition  becoming  especially  prominent.  There  is  an 
obvious  lesson  to  be  learned  from  such  instances,  but  certain 
qualifications  are  necessary  in  order  to  apply  it  properly.  With 
regard  to  mental  activity,  there  is  abundant  evidence  that  the 
more  the  intellectual  faculties  are  exercised  the  greater  the  prob- 
ability of  their  lasting.  They  often  become  stronger  after  the 
vital  force  has  passed  its  culminating  point;  and  this  retention 
of  mental  power  is  the  true  compensation  for  the  decline  in 
bodily  strength.  Did  space  permit,  many  illustrations  could  be 
adduced  to  show  that  the  power  of  the  mind  can  be  preserved 
almost  unimpaired  to  the  most  advanced  age.  Even  memory, 
the  failure  of  which  is  sometimes  regarded  as  a  necessar}''  con- 
comitant of  old  age,  is  not  infrequently  preserved  almost  up  to 
the  end  of  life.  All  persons  of  middle  age  should  take  special 
pains  to  keep  the  faculties  and  energies  of  the  mind  in  a  vigor- 
ous condition;  they  should  not  simply  drift  on  in  a  haphazard 
fashion,  but  should  seek  and  find  pleasure  in  the  attainment  of 
definite  objects.  Even  if  the  mind  has  not  been  especially  culti- 
vated, or  received  any  decided  bent,  there  is  at  the  present  day 
no  lack  of  subjects  on  which  it  can  be  agreeably  and  profitably 
exercisedo  Many  sciences  which,  twenty  or  thirty  years  ago, 
were  accessible  only  to  the  few,  and  wore  at  best  a  somewhat 
uninviting  garb,  have  been  rendered  not  merely  intelligible  but 
even  attractive  to  the  many ;  and  in  the  domain  of  general  liter- 
ature the  difficulty  of  making  a  choice  among  the  host  of  allure- 
ments is  the  only  ground  for  complaint.  To  increase  the  taste 
for  these  and  kindred  subjects  is  worth  a  considerable  effort,  if 
such  be  necessary ;  but  the  appetite  will  generally  come  with  the 
eating.  The  possession  of  some  reasonable  hobby  which  can  be 
cultivated  indoors  is  a  great  advantage  in  old  age,  and  there  are 


THE   ART    OF    PROLONGING    LIFE  399 

many  pursuits  of  this  character  besides  those  connected  with 
literature  and  science.  Talleyrand  laid  great  stress  on  a  knowl- 
edge of  whist  as  indispensable  to  a  happy  old  age,  and  doubtless 
to  many  old  people  that  particular  game  affords  not  only  recrea- 
tion but  a  pleasant  exercise  to  the  mind.  It  is,  however,  an 
unworthy  substitute  for  higher  objects,  and  should  be  regarded 
only  as  an  amusement  and  not  as  an  occupation. 

Whatever  be  the  sphere  of  mental  activity,  no  kind  of  strain 
must  be  put  upon  the  mind  by  a  person  who  has  reached  sixty- 
five  or  seventy  years.  The  feeling  that  mental  power  is  less  than 
it  once  was  not  infrequently  stimulates  a  man  to  increased  exer- 
tions which  may  provoke  structural  changes  in  the  brain,  and 
will  certainly  accelerate  the  progress  of  any  that  may  exist  in 
that  organ.  When  a  man  finds  that  a  great  effort  is  required 
to  accomplish  any  mental  task  that  was  once  easy,  he  should 
desist  from  the  attempt,  and  regulate  his  work  according  to  his 
power.  With  this  limitation,  it  may  be  taken  for  granted  that 
the  mental  faculties  will  be  far  better  preserved  by  their  exercise 
than  by  their  disuse. 

Somewhat  different  advice  must  be  given  with  regard  to  bodily 
exercises  in  their  reference  to  longevity.  Exercise  is  essential  to 
the  preservation  of  health ;  inactivity  is  a  potent  cause  of  wasting 
and  degeneration.  The  vigor  and  equality  of  the  circulation, 
the  functions  of  the  skin,  and  the  aeration  of  the  blood,  are  all 
promoted  by  muscular  activity,  which  thus  keeps  up  a  proper 
balance  and  relation  between  the  important  organs  of  the  body. 
In  youth,  the  vigor  of  the  system  is  often  so  great  that  if  one 
organ  be  sluggish  another  part  will  make  amends  for  the  de- 
ficiency by  acting  vicariously,  and  without  any  consequent  dam- 
age to  itself.  In  old  age,  the  tasks  can  not  be  thus  shifted  from 
one  organ  to  another ;  the  work  allotted  to  each  sufficiently  taxes 
its  strength,  and  vicarious  action  can  not  be  performed  without 
mischief.  Hence  the  importance  of  maintaining,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, the  equable  action  of  all  the  bodily  organs,  so  that  the 
share  of  the  vital  processes  assigned  to  each  shall  be  properly 
accomplished.  For  this  reason  exercise  is  an  important  part 
of  the  conduct  of  life  in  old  age;  but  discretion  is  absolutely 
necessary.  An  old  man  should  discover  by  experience  how  much 
exercise  he  can  take  without  exhausting  his  powers,  and  should 
.be  careful  never  to  exceed  the  limit.     Old  persons  are  apt  to 


400  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

forget  that  their  staying  powers  are  much  less  than  they  once 
were,  and  that,  while  a  walk  of  two  or  three  miles  may  prove 
easy  and  pleasurable,  the  addition  of  a  return  journey  of  similar 
length  will  seriously  overtax  the  strength.  Above  all  things, 
sudden  and  rapid  exertion  should  be  scrupulously  avoided  by 
persons  of  advanced  age.  The  machine  which  might  go  on  work- 
ing for  years  at  a  gentle  pace  often  breaks  down  altogether  when 
its  movements  are  suddenly  accelerated.  These  cautions  may 
appear  superfluous,  but  instances  in  which  their  disregard  is 
followed  by  very  serious  consequences  are  by  no  means  infre- 
quent. 

No  fixed  rule  can  be  laid  down  as  to  the  kind  of  exercise  most 
suitable  for  advanced  age.  Much  must  depend  upon  individual 
circumstances  and  peculiarities;  but  walking  in  the  open  air 
should  always  be  kept  up  and  practiced  daily,  except  in  unfavor- 
able weather.  Walking  is  a  natural  form  of  exercise  and  sub- 
serves many  important  purposes:  not  a  few  old  people  owe  the 
maintenance  of  their  health  and  vigor  to  their  daily  "  constitu- 
tional.^^ Eiding  is  an  excellent  form  of  exercise,  but  available 
only  by  a  few ;  the  habit,  if  acquired  in  early  life,  should  be  kept 
up  as  long  as  possible,  subject  to  the  caution  already  given  as  to 
violent  exercise.  Old  persons  of  both  sexes  fond  of  gardening, 
and  so  situated  that  they  may  gratify  their  tastes,  are  much  to 
be  envied.  Body  and  mind  are  alike  exercised  by  what  Lord 
Bacon  justly  termed  "  the  purest  of  human  pleasures."  Dr. 
Parkes  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  light  garden  or  agricultural 
work  is  a  very  good  exercise  for  men  past  seventy :  "  It  calls  into 
play  the  muscles  of  the  abdomen  and  back,  which  in  old  men  are 
often  but  little  used,  and  the  work  is  so  varied  that  no  muscle 
is  kept  long  in  action."  A  few  remarks  must  be  made,  in  con- 
clusion, with  regard  to  a  new  form  of  exercise  sometimes  in- 
dulged in  even  by  elderly  men.  I  allude  to  so-called  "tri- 
cycling." Exhilarating  and  pleasant  as  it  may  be  to  glide  over 
the  ground  with  comparatively  little  effort,  the  exercise  is 
fraught  with  danger  for  men  who  have  passed  the  grand  climac- 
teric. The  temptation  to  make  a  spurt  must  be  often  irresist- 
ible; hills  must  be  encountered,  some  perhaps  so  smooth  and 
gradual  as  to  require  no  special  exertion,  none,  at  least,  that 
is  noticed  in  the  triumph  of  surmounting  them.  Now,  if  the 
heart  and  lungs  be  perfectly  sound,  such  exercises  may  be  prac- 


THE   ART    OF    PROLONGING    LIFE  401 

ticed  for  some  time  with  apparent  impunity;  but  if  (as  is  very 
likely  to  be  the  case),  these  organs  be  not  quite  structurally  per- 
fect, even  the  slightest  changes  will,  under  such  excitement, 
rapidly  progress  and  lead  to  very  serious  results.  Exercise  un- 
suited  to  the  state  of  the  system  will  assuredly  not  tend  to  the 
prolongation  of  life. 

With  regard  to  food,  we  find  from  Dr.  Humphry's  report  that 
ninety  per  cent,  of  the  aged  persons  were  either  "  moderate ''  or 
"■small''  eaters,  and  such  moderation  is  quite  in  accord  with 
the  teachings  of  physiology.  In  old  age  the  changes  in  the 
bodily  tissues  gradually  become  less  and  less  active,  and  less 
food  is  required  to  make  up  for  the  daily  waste.  The  appetite 
and  the  power  of  digestion  are  correspondingly  diminished,  and 
although  for  the  attainment  of  a  great  age  a  considerable  amount 
of  digestive  power  is  absolutely  necessary,  its  perfection,  when 
exercised  upon  proper  articles  of  diet,  is  the  most  important 
characteristic.  Indulgence  in  the  pleasures  of  the  table  is  one 
of  the  common  errors  of  advanced  life,  and  is  not  infrequent  in 
persons  who,  up  to  that  period,  were  moderate  or  even  small 
eaters.  Luxuries  in  the  way  of  food  are  apt  to  be  regarded  as 
rewards  that  have  been  fully  earned  by  a  life  of  labor,  and  m.ay, 
therefore,  be  lawfully  enjoyed.  Hence  arise  many  of  the  evils 
and  troubles  of  old-  age,  and  notably  indigestion  and  gouty 
symptoms  in  various  forms,  besides  mental  discomfort.  No 
hard  and  fast  rules  can  be  laid  down,  but  strict  moderation 
should  be  the  guiding  maxim.  The  diet  suitable  for  most  aged 
persons  is  that  which  contains  much  nutritive  material  in  a 
small  bulk,  and  its  quantity  should  be  in  proportion  to  the  appe- 
tite and  power  of  digestion.  Animal  food,  well  cooked,  should 
be  taken  sparingly  and  not  more  often  than  twice  a  day,  except 
under  special  circumstances.  Dr.  Parkes  advocates  rice  as  a 
partial  substitute  for  meat  when  the  latter  is  found  to  disagree 
with  old  persons.  "Its  starch-grains  are  very  digestible,  and 
it  supplies  nitrogen  in  moderate  amount,  well  fitted  to  the  worn 
and  slowly  repaired  tissues  of  the  aged."  Its  bulk,  however, 
is  sometimes  a  disadvantage ;  in  small  quantities  it  is  a  valuable 
addition  to  milk  and  to  stewed  fruits. 

The  amount  of  food  taken  should  be  divided  between  three 
or  four  meals  at  fairly  regular  intervals.  A  sense  of  fullness  or 
oppression  after  eating  ought  not  to  be  disregarded.  It  indicates 
26 


402  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

tliat  the  food  taken  has  been  either  too  abundant  or  of  improper 
quality.  Por  many  elderly  people  the  most  suitable  time  for 
the  principal  meal  is  between  1  and  2  P.  M.  As  the  day  ad- 
vances the  digestive  powers  become  less,  and  even  a  m'oderately 
substantial  meal  taken  in  the  evening  may  seriously  overtask 
them.  Undigested  food  is  a  potent  cause  of  disturbed  sleep, 
an  evil  often  very  troublesome  to  old  people,  and  one  which 
ought  to  be  carefully  guarded  against. 

It  is  an  easier  task  to  lay  down  rules  with  regard  to  the  use 
of  alcoholic  liquors  by  elderly  people.  The  Collective  Investiga- 
tion Committee  of  the  British  Medical  Association  has  lately 
issued  a  "Eeport  on  the  Connection  of  Disease  with  Habits  of 
Intemperance,'^  and  two  at  least  of  the  conclusions  arrived  at 
are  worth  quoting :  "  Habitual  indulgence  in  alcoholic  liquors, 
beyond  the  most  moderate  amount,  has  a  distinct  tendency  to 
shorten  life,  the  average  shortening  being  roughly  proportional 
to  the  degree  of  indulgence.  Total  abstinence  and  habitual  tem- 
perance augment  considerably  the  chance  of  death  from  old  age 
or  natural  decay,  without  special  pathological  lesion.^'  Subject, 
however,  to  a  few  exceptions,  it  is  not  advisable  that  a  man 
sixty-five  or  seventy  years  of  age,  who  has  taken  alcohol  in 
moderation  all  his  life,  should  suddenly  become  an  abstainer. 
Old  age  cannot  readily  accommodate  itself  to  changes  of  any 
kind,  and  to  many  old  people  a  little  good  wine  with  their  meals 
is  a  source  of  great  comfort.  To  quote  again  from  Ecclesiasticus, 
"  Wine  is  as  good  as  life  to  a  man,  if  it  be  drunk  moderately, 
for  it  was  made  to  make  men  glad."  Elderly  persons,  particu- 
larly at  the  close  of  the  day,  often  find  that  their  nervous  energy 
is  exhausted,  and  require  a  little  stimulant  to  induce  them  to 
take  a  necessary  supply  of  proper  nourishment,  and  perhaps  to 
aid  the  digestive  powers  to  convert  their  food  to  a  useful  purpose. 
In  the  debility  of  old  age,  and  especially  when  sleeplessness  is 
accompanied  by  slow  and  imperfect  digestion,  a  small  quantity 
of  a  generous  and  potent  wine,  containing  much  ether,  often 
does  good  service.  Even  a  little  beer  improves  digestion  in  some 
old  people;  others  find  that  spirits,  largely  diluted,  fulfil  the 
same  purpose.  Individual  peculiarities  must  be  allowed  for; 
the  only  general  rule  is  that  which  prescribes  strict  moderation. 

It  is  not  to  be  inferred  from  the  hints  given  in  the  preceding 
paragraphs  that  the  preservation  of  health  should  be  the  pre- 


THE   ART    OF   PROLONGING    LIFE  403 

dominant  thought  in  the  minds  of  elderly  persons  who  desire 
that  their  lives  should  be  prolonged.  To  be  always  guarding 
against  disease,  and  to  live  in  a  state  of  constant  fear  and  watch- 
fulness, would  make  existence  miserable  and  hasten  the  progress 
of  decay.  Selfish  and  undue  solicitude  with  regard  to  health 
not  only  fails  to  attain  its  object,  but  is  apt  to  induce  that  dis- 
eased condition  of  mind  known  as  hypochondriasis  ("the 
blues'^),  the  victims  of  which  are  always  a  burden  and  a 
nuisance,  if  not  to  themselves,  at  least  to  all  connected  with 
them.  Addison,  in  the  Spectator,  after  describing  the  valetudi- 
narian who  constantly  weighed  himself  and  his  food,  and  yet 
became  sick  and  languishing,  aptly  remarks,  "  A  continual 
anxiety  for  life  vitiates  all  the  relishes  of  it,  and  casts  a  gloom 
over  the  whole  face  of  nature,  as  it  is  impossible  that  we  should 
take  delight  in  anything  that  we  are  every  moment  afraid  of 
losing.^^ 

Sleep  is  closely  connected  with  the  question  of  diet;  "good 
sleeping  "  was  a  noticeable  feature  in  the  large  majority  of  Dr. 
Humphry'^s  cases.  Sound,  refreshing  sleep  is  of  the  utmost  con- 
sequence to  the  health  of  the  body,  and  no  substitute  can  be 
found  for  it  as  a  restorer  of  vital  energy.  Sleeplessness  is,  how- 
ever, often  a  source  of  great  trouble  to  elderly  people,  and  one 
which  is  not  easily  relieved.  Narcotic  remedies  are  generally 
mischievous;  their  first  effects  may  be  pleasant,  but  the  habit 
of  depending  upon  them  rapidly  grows  until  they  become  indis- 
pensable. When  this  stage  has  been  reached,  the  sufferer  is  in 
a  far  worse  plight  than  before.  In  all  cases  the  endeavor  should 
be  made  to  discover  whether  the  sleeplessness  be  due  to  any 
removable  cause  —  such  as  indigestion,  cold,  want  of  exercise, 
and  the  like.  In  regard  to  sleeping  in  the  daytime,  there  is 
something  to  be  said  both  for  and  against  that  practice.  A  nap 
of  "  forty  winks  "  in  the  afternoon  enables  many  aged  people  to 
get  through  the  rest  of  the  day  in  comfort,  whereas  they  feel 
tired  and  weak  when  deprived  of  this  refreshment.  If  they  rest 
well  at  night  there  can  be  no  objection  to  the  afternoon  nap; 
but  if  sleeplessness  be  complained  of,  the  latter  should  be  dis- 
continued for  a  time.  Most  old  people  find  that  a  reclining 
posture,  with  the  feet  and  legs  raised,  is  better  than  the  hori- 
zontal position  for  the  afternoon  nap.  Digestion  proceeds  with 
more  ease  than  when  the  body  is  recumbent. 


404  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

Warmth  is  very  important  for  the  aged;  exposure  to  chills 
should  be  scrupulously  avoided.  Bronchitis  is  the  malady  most 
to  be  feared,  and  its  attacks  are  very  easily  provoked.  Many 
old  people  suffer  from  more  or  less  cough  during  the  winter 
months,  and  this  symptom  may  recur  year  after  year,  and  be 
almost  unheeded.  At  last,  perhaps  a  few  minutes'  exposure  to 
a  cold  wind  increases  the  irritation  in  the  lungs,  the  cough 
becomes  worse,  and  the  difficulty  of  breathing  increases  until 
suffocation  terminates  in  death.  To  obviate  such  risk  the  skin 
should  be  carefully  protected  by  warm  flannel  clothes,  the  out- 
door thermometer  should  be  noticed  and  winter  garments  should 
always  be  at  hand.  In  cold  weather  the  lungs  should  be  pro- 
tected by  breathing  through  the  nose  as  much  as  possible,  and 
by  wearing  a  light  woolen  or  silken  muffler  over  the  mouth.  The 
temperature  of  the  sitting  and  bed-rooms  is  another  point  which 
requires  attention.  Some  old  people  pride  themselves  on  never 
requiring  a  fire  in  their  bed-rooms.  It  is,  however,  a  risky  prac- 
tice to  exchange  a  temperature  of  65*^  to  70°  for  one  fifteen  or 
twenty  degrees  lower.  As  a  general  rule,  for  persons  sixty-five 
years  of  age  and  upward,  the  temperature  of  the  bed-room  should 
not  be  below  60°,  and  when  there  are  any  symptoms  of  bron- 
chitis it  should  be  raised  from  five  to  ten  degrees  higher. 

Careful  cleansing  of  the  skin  is  the  last  point  which  needs 
to  be  mentioned  in  an  article  like  the  present.  Attention  to 
cleanliness  is  decidedly  conducive  to  longevity,  and  we  may  con- 
gratulate ourselves  on  the  general  improvement  in  our  habits 
in  this  respect.  Frequent  washing  with  warm  water  is  very 
advantageous  for  old  people,  in  whom  the  skin  is  only  too  apt 
to  become  hard  and  dry ;  and  the  benefit  will  be  increased  if  the 
ablutions  be  succeeded  by  friction  with  coarse  flannel  or  linen 
gloves,  or  with  a  flesh-brush.  Every  part  of  the  skin  should 
be  thus  washed  and  rubbed  daily.  The  friction  removes  worn- 
out  particles  of  the  skin,  and  the  exercise  promotes  warmth  and 
excites  perspiration.  Too  much  attention  can  hardly  be  paid 
to  the  state  of  the  skin;  the  comfort  of  the  aged  is  greatly  de- 
pendent upon  the  proper  discharge  of  its  functions. 

Such,  then,  are  the  principal  measures  by  which  life  may  be 
prolonged  and  health  maintained  down  to  the  closing  scene.  It 
remains  to  be  seen  whether,  as  a  result  of  progress  of  knowledge 
and  civilization,  life  will  ever  be  protracted  beyond  the  limit 


THE   ART   OF   PROLONGING    LIFE  405 

assigned  to  it  in  a  preceding  paragraph.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  the  average  duration  of  human  life  is  capable  of  very  great 
extension,  and  that  the  same  causes  which  serve  to  prolong  life 
materially  contribute  toward  the  happiness  of  mankind.  The 
experience  of  the  last  few  decades  abundantly  testifies  to  the 
marked  improvement  which  has  taken  place  in  the  public  health. 
Statistics  show  that  at  the  end  of  the  septennial  period,  1881-87, 
400,000  persons  were  alive  in  England  and  Wales  whose  death 
would  have  taken  place  had  the  mortality  been  in  the  same  pro- 
portion as  during  the  previous  decade.  It  may  be  reasonably 
expected  that  as  time  goes  on  there  will  be  an  increase  in  the 
proportion  of  centenarians  to  the  population  as  a  whole. 

The  question  whether  long  life  is,  after  all,  desirable  does  not 
admit  of  any  general  answer.  Much  depends  upon  the  previous 
history  of  the  individual,  and  his  bodily  and  mental  condition. 
The  last  stages  of  a  well  spent  life  may  be  the  happiest,  the 
shuffling-off  of  the  mortal  coil,  though  calmly  expected,  need  not 
be  wished  for.  The  picture  afforded  by  cheerful  and  mellow  old 
age.  is  a  lesson  to  younger  generations.  Elderly  people  may,  if 
they  choose,  become  centers  of  improving  and  refining  influence. 
On  the  other  hand,  old  age  can  not  be  regarded  as  a  blessing 
when  it  is  accompanied  by  profound  decrepitude  and  disorder  of 
mind  and  body.  Senile  dementia,  or  second  childishness,  is,  of 
all  conditions,  perhaps  the  most  miserable,  though  not  so  painful 
to  the  sufferer  as  to  those  who  surround  him.  Its  advent  may 
be  accelerated  by  ignorance  and  neglect,  and  almost  assuredly 
retarded  or  prevented  by  such  simple  measures  as  have  been  sug- 
gested, No  one  who  has  had  opportunities  of  studying  old 
people  can  shut  his  eyes  to  the  fact  that  many  of  the  incapabil- 
ities of  age  may  be  prevented  by  attention  to  a  few  simple  rules, 
the  observance  of  which  will  not  only  prolong  life  and  make  it 
happier  and  more  comfortable,  but  will  reduce  to  a  minimum 
the  period  of  decrepitude.  Old  age  may  be  an  incurable  disease, 
admitting  of  but  one  termination,  but  the  manner  of  that  end, 
and  the  condition  which  precedes  it,  are,  though  not  altogether, 
certainly  to  a  very  great  extent,  within  our  own  power. 


406  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


THE   FIGHT   AGAINST   CONSUMPTION. 

By  NEWELL  DUNBAR. 

THE  human  race  is  evidently  destined  for  great  things.  Life 
nowadays  is  indeed  worth  living ;  intense  —  quick.  We 
wake  up  every  morning  to  find  a  fresh  domain  come 
under  man^s  hand.  The  remoteness  of  earth's  four  corners  he  is 
learning  to  defy  with  electric  locomotives  and  automobiles.  Not 
content  with  the  ocean^s  surface,  in  his  submarine  boat,  fish-like, 
he  now  navigates  its  depths.  The  air,  too,  that  long  baffled  him, 
at  last  he  lords.  Nothing  is  too  distant  or  too  near,  too  large 
or  too  small,  too  high  or  too  low  to  escape  him.  Mysteries,  even 
the  existence  of  which  have  been  unsuspected  in  cases  through 
the  ages  (bacteria,  Eontgen  rays,  Becquerel  rays,  radium,  etc.), 
now  yield  up  their  secrets.  Some  day  man  will  find  out  that 
life  can  really  be  lived  on  a  basis  of  love  instead  of  hate,  estab- 
lish a  rational  way  of  distributing  wealth,  and  conclude  that 
settling  disputes  by  fighting  does  not  pay.  Death  he  may  not 
hope  to  evade.  But  his  old  foe.  Disease,  it  looks  as  if  he  might 
in  time  seriously  worry,  if  not  in  some  of  its  forms  practically 
quell. 

On  the  principle  of  choosing  a  representative  that  represents, 
let  us  take  Consumption  and  see  how  man  stands  to-day  toward 
that  king  of  maladies. 

That  consumption  is  indeed  the  worst  ailment  that  preys  upon 
mankind  the  following  facts  will  show :  It  flourishes  throughout 
the  world,  is  always  at  work,  and  it  has  ravaged  the  race  for 
thousands  of  years.  In  severe  or  mild  form  it  affects  at  least 
one-half  of  the  earth's  inhabitants,  causing  fully  one-seventh  of 
the  total  number  of  deaths  —  between  the  ages  of  fifteen  and 
forty-five  about  one-third.  Between  thirty-five  and  forty-four, 
when  the  world's  productive  workers  are  at  their  best  and  so 
can  least  be  spared,  one  person  dies  from  it  in  every  four.  It 
ends  far  more  lives  than  all  other  forms  of  infectious  diseases 
combined   (only  pneumonia  making  any  approach  to  it  in  de- 


THE    FIGHT   AGAINST    CONSUMPTION  407 

struct! veness).  Leprosy,  the  dread  scourge  of  the  East,  is  a 
hundred-fold  less  contagious,  as  to  contract  it  requires  much 
more  intimate  intercourse  (indeed  consumption  does  not  need 
any) .  In  the  United  States  it  occasions  one-tenth  of  the  deaths 
from  all  causes,  160,000  succumbing  to  its  insidious  undermin- 
ing every  year.  In  the  single  state  of  California  —  which,  by 
the  way,  is  called  the  consumptives^  paradise  —  it  is  said  an- 
nually to  destroy  more  lives  than  yellow  fever  has  done  in  the 
whole  United  States  for  the  last  twenty-two  years.  Its  victims 
every  two  years  in  New  York  city  outnumber  those  of  small-pox 
in  the  whole  country  since  our  government  began.  The  deaths 
annually  from  it  in  any  town  of  five  thousand  inhabitants  in 
the  country  exceed  those  from  Asiatic  cholera  throughout  the 
United  States  for  over  a  quarter  of  a  century.  The  increase  in 
the  number  of  its  victims  more  than  keeps  pace  with  the  increase 
of  the  population.  (Owing,  doubtless,  to  the  fact  of  the  present 
tendency  to  collect  in  cities,  where  people  are  brought  close 
together  and  opportunities  are  numerous  for  contracting  disease. 
Among  the  children,  especially,  in  cities  the  mortality  from  it  is 
appalling,  and  still  grows.)  In  the  late  Boer  war,  severe  as  was 
Great  Britain's  loss  by  the  bullet,  consumption  cost  her  eighteen 
times  as  many  lives.-  Indeed,  till  comparatively  lately  a  physi- 
cian's verdict  of  consumption  carried  with  it  simply  doom  to 
inevitable  and  probably  near  death,  to  which  the  invalid  and 
his  friends  had  nothing  to  do  but  resign  themselves  with  what 
grace  they  might.  Facts  as  gruesome  as  these  may  well  give  even 
the  most  thoughtless  pause ! 

•  No  disease  can  be  understood  till  we  know  its  cause.  We  now 
see  that  for  centuries  the  learned  even,  however  from  time  to 
time  they  may  have  changed  their  views  of  what  produces  cer- 
tain disorders  —  or  at  least  expressed  them  differently  —  when 
they  did  not  cover  up  utter  ignorance  in  a  mere  wrapper  of 
words,  held  opinions  that  were  false.  It  was  one  of  the  crowning 
glories  of  the  nineteenth  century  that  toward  its  close  it  scien- 
tifically established  the  cause  of  consumption,  pneumonia,  diph- 
theria, typhoid  fever,  scarlatina,  small-pox,  cholera,  etc. —  all 
germ  diseases,  as  they  are  called.*     (Among  them  will  be  noticed 

*  No  doubt  many  readers  have  often  smiled  at  some  of  the  ludicrous  ex- 
pressions that  came  to  the  surface  in  the  "  germ  "  ferment  of  the  last 
thirty  years;  e.  g.,  the  germ  of  laziness,  the  germ  of  love,  the  golf  germ, 
etc. 


408  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

some  of  mankind's  direst  foes.)  The  list  gradually  grew,  and 
there  is  good  hope  in  the  future  it  will  reach  still  further.  The 
production  of  diseases  by  germs  must  he  classed  among  man- 
kind's really  great  discoYeries.* 

The  germ-production  of  disease,  or  the  germ  theory  of  disease 
(as  it  is  called) — briefly,  and  without  going  too  much  into 
detail  —  is  as  follows:  In  the  last  quarter  of  the  nineteenth 
century  it  was  discovered  that  the  earth,  air,  and  water  are  filled 
with  countless  numbers  of  living  things,  far  too  small  to  be 
visible  to  the  naked  eye,  called  germs,  microbes,  or  micro-organ- 
isms. One  important  group  of  these  belongs  to  the  microscopic 
plants  called  bacteria,  which  live  mostly  on  dead  organic  matter 
—  that  is,  on  what  has  once  formed  some  part  of  a  living  being. 
In  doing  this  they  release  the  oxygen,  hydrogen,  and  nitrogen 
of  which  all  living  things  are  largely  composed,  and  of  which, 
the  supply  in  nature  being  limited,  the  quantities  used  in  one 
form  must  be  in  some  way  restored  to  the  general  fund  for  use 
again,  or  the  cycle  of  life  would  cease.  So  far  as  bacteria  per- 
form this  office  merely  their  work  is  beneficent.  They  are  most 
lively  multipliers,  and  each  germ  is  a  little  chemical  laboratory, 
absorbing  the  organic  matter  it  feeds  upon  and  resolving  it  into 
new  compounds.  Some  of  these  go  to  maintain  and  build  up 
the  germ's  own  body,  while  others  are  given  off  into  its  sur- 
roundings. A  few  bacteria  choose  to  live  in  the  bodies  of  men. 
Here  they  feed  on  the  tissues,  and  by  setting  free  and  returning 
to  them  certain  poisons  existing  in  the  blood  produce  those  dis- 
turbances, and  changes  of  structure,  called  disease.  The  diseases 
caused  by  the  growth  of  such  germs  in  the  body  are  called  in- 
fectious. The  germs  are  given  off  from  the  body,  and  in  some 
way  (as  by  movement  through  the  air)  re'ach  and  find  lodgment 
in  other  persons,  in  whom  they  produce  similar  disease.  It  is 
not  the  disease  itself,  but  the  germ  which  causes  it,  that  is  trans- 
mitted or  is  "  catching."  The  germ  theory  of  disease  holds  (and 
it  has  proved  its  point)  that  germ  diseases  are  never  self -pro- 
duced in  the  body,  but  are  always  caused  by  minute  beings  that 
propagate  themselves,  and  enter  the  body  from  without —  beings 

*  It  had  been  held  by  many  since  about  1683  that  epilepsy,  gout,  typhus 
fever,  measles,  small-pox,  malaria,  etc.,  were  caused  by  minute  living  ani- 
mals or  plants  in  the  body ;  but,  as  these  were  supposed  to  be  "  spontane- 
ously generated,"  it  came  to  the  same  thing  as  the  disease  breaking  out  of 
itself.    The  matter  was  not  cleared  up  till  1876. 


THE   FIGHT   AGAINST   CONSUMPTION  409 

that  can  be  seen,  handled,  and  killed.  Here  was  taken  an  im- 
mense stride ! 

The  germ  that  causes  man's  arch-scourge,  consumption  or 
tuberculosis  (to  use  the  scientific  name),  is  called  the  tubercle 
bacillus,  and  was  discovered  by  the  famous  German  physician, 
Eobert  Koch,  in  1882.  It,  and  it  alone  —  it  is  now  known  — 
produces  consumption.  Without  its  entrance  in  a  living  condi- 
tion into  a  human  body,  consumption  cannot  develop  there; 
without  its  transmission  in  some  way  from  the  sick  to  the  well, 
tuberculosis  cannot  spread.  The  whole  secret  of  the  attack,  pre- 
vention, and  cure  of  consumption  lies  in  the  study  of  the  tubercle 
baciJlus. 

The  tubercle  bacillus  is  not  as  is  sometimes  thought  a  minute 
animal,  but  a  microscopic  plant,  thriving  best  on  animal  tissue, 
and  then  only  at  temperatures  about  that  of  the  normal  human 
body.  It  is  so  small  that  a  group  consisting  of  thousands  of 
them  is  imperceptible  to  the  naked  eye.  It  cannot  move  about 
nor  grow  without  moisture.  The  bodies  of  a  few  warm-blooded 
animals  also  harbor  it.  It  has  been  cultivated  artificially  in 
laboratories,  and  more,  fortunately,  is  known  of  its  peculiarities 
than  of  those  of  almost  any  other  germ.  Heat,  sunlight,  and 
many  disinfectants  readily  kill  it,  but  in  a  dried  state  it  will 
remain  alive  for  weeks.  On  once  gainmg  lodgment  in  a  body 
favorable  to  its  growth  it  multiplies  slowly,  dividing  and  sub- 
dividing. As  it  feeds  on  the  tissues,  setting  free  and  returning 
to  them  poisons  in  the  blood,  it  stimulates  the  cells  of  the  body 
to  produce  little  knob-shaped  masses  of  new  tissue  called 
tubercles.  The  tubercle  bacillus  may  lodge  in  almost  any  part 
of  the  body,  and  cause  tubercles  there ;  it  sometimes  does  so,  for 
instance,  in  the  intestinal  canal.  But  tubercles  are  by  far  most 
common  on  the  lungs.  Tubercles  as  a  rule  soon  die  and  break 
up.  Then  (if  in  a  part  of  the  body  where  this  is  possible,  as  in 
the  lungs)  the  waste  material,  often  bearing  thousands  of  living 
germs,  is  cast  off  from  the  body.  In  consumption  this  dangerous 
dead  matter  is  thrown  off  in  the  sputum  or  spittle. 

We  are  now  in  a  position  to  see  the  following  facts :  Consump- 
tion is  "  catching,"  like  measles,  whooping-cough,  or  diphtheria. 
The  only  way  we  can  contract  it  is  by  getting  into  our  bodies 
tubercle  bacilli.  These  may  come  from  diseased  men  or  animals, 
the  former  source  of  danger  being  by  far  the  greater.     (Among 


^10  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

animals  practically  the  only  risk  is  in  cattle,  from  the  use  of 
diseased  meat  or  unboiled  milk.)  From  men,  however,  there  is 
no  danger  —  even  to  constant  attendants,  or  in  the  closest  inti- 
macy (as  that  of  husband  and  wife) — of  getting  bacilli  in  the 
breath,  which  used  to  be  thought  so  deadly.  Contact,  too,  with 
any  healthy  clean  part  of  a  consumptive's  body  is  perfectly  safe. 
In  what  consumptives  cough  up  and  spit  out,  in  the  phlegm 
(or  sputum,  as  it  is  called),  is  where  the  danger  lies.  A  person 
moderately  far  gone  in  the  disease  expectorates,  it  has  been 
calculated,  from  one  million  to  five  million  tubercle  bacilli  in 
twenty-four  hours.  Moist  sputum  as  a  rule  is  harmless  —  unless 
it  be  directly  transmitted  to  the  well  person.  (This  may  happen 
in  violent  coughing,  sneezing,  etc.,  by  unwashed  dishes  or  cooking 
utensils,  from  soiled  hands,  in  kissing,  caressing,  or  in  some 
such  way.)  Dried  sputum  —  and  here  is  the  point,  it  cannot  be 
made  too  plain,  nor  too  much  dwelt  upon  —  is  the  great  source 
of  contagion  in  consumption.  In  one  way  and  another  (as  by 
being  rubbed  against,  ar  trodden  upon)  it  becomes  pulverized 
into  dust,  which  floats  around  in  the  air  and  is  thence  breathed 
in.  This  dust  is  found  in  consumptives'  rooms  (on  floors,  walls, 
bedding,  handkerchiefs,  towels,  the  patient's  person,  etc.)  ;  is 
blown  about  b}^  the  wind  in  the  streets ;  enters  schoolrooms,  trol- 
ley and  steam  cars,  cabs,  theaters,  factories,  workshops,  churches, 
is  found  on  the  cup  at  drinking  fountains,  etc.  Dried  sputum 
has  been  for  untold  years  the  hidden  cause  from  which  a  large 
part  of  the  human  race  has  prematurely  perished.  It  has  alwa3^s 
been,  and  is  to-day,  the  source  of  the  spread  of  consumption. 
And  upon  the  thorough  destruction  (by  fire)  of  consumptives' 
spittle  before  it  dries,  or  its  being  rendered  harmless  (by  treat- 
ing it  with  some  disinfectant,  as  a  solution  of  corrosive  sub- 
limate not  less  in  strength  than  one  to  five  hundred)  depends 
the  arrest  in  large  measure  of  the  spread  of  this  dread  disease. 

The  reason  that  —  with  all  this  exposure  —  ever3'body  does 
not  get  consumption  is  that,  while  we  are  in  good  health,  nature 
is  able  to  overcome  the  germs.  If  they  invade  our  bodies  they 
are  cast  out  again  —  by  secretion,  or  through  the  mouth  —  be- 
fore effecting  lodgment.  Should  they  even  enter  the  blood  the 
white  corpuscles  there  kill  and  dispose  of  them..  Most  of  us 
inhale  many  of  these  germs  without  being  harmed.  Indeed 
many  persons  have  had  and  got  rid  of  small  pulmonary  tubercles 


THE    FIGHT    AGAINST    CONSUMPTION  411 

without  ever  knowing  it.  Their  strengtii  and  general  health 
were  such  that  they  could  overcome  even  these.  It  is  when  we 
are  run  down,  or  weakened  by  other  disease,  or  there  is  an 
irritation  or  abrasion  of  the  breathing  organs  (as  from  a  cold), 
that  the  inhaled  bacilli  find  lodgment,  and  consumption  begins. 
There  is  danger,  too,  in  the  number  of  the  germs  that  assail  us: 
a  few  we  may  overpower ;  many  are  likely  to  overpower  us.  On 
an  average,  it  is  calculated,  it  takes  five  implantings  of  the  bacilli 
to  give  consumption. 

One  thing  clearly  shown  by  the  discovery  of  the  true  cause  of 
tuberculosis  is  that  consumption  is  not  hereditary  (as,  for  in- 
stance, are  gout,  insanity,  and  various  nervous  complaints 
handed  down  from  parent  to  offspring) .  The  reason  that  it  was 
so  long  held  to  be  so  is,  that  when  once  it  had  attacked  one 
member  of  a  family  it  generally  sooner  or  later  appeared  in 
another.  But  this  is  now  seen  to  have  been  due  to  the  house 
being  infected  with  the  germs.  Some  persons  are  more  sensitive 
to  the  influence  of  bacteria  than  are  others,  and  the  same  person 
is  more  so  at  one  time  than  at  another.  This  susceptibility,  in 
the  case  of  consumption,  is  undoubtedly  hereditary.  It  is  not, 
however,  the  disease,  or  the  certainty  of  developing  it,  that  comes 
into  the  world  with  the  successive  children  of  certain  families, 
but  merely  this  aptitude  to  contract  the  disease  if  external  con- 
ditions should  favor.  Without  the  absorption  in  some  way  of 
tubercle  bacilli  —  no  matter  how  great  the  aptitude  —  consump- 
tion is  impossible.  The  members  of  families  having  this  heredi- 
tary tendency  should  strive,  in  all  their  occupations,  amusements, 
food,  exercise,  whole  manner  of  living,  indeed,  to  make  their 
life  as  healthy  and  themselves  as  vigorous  as  possible.  They 
should  be  particularly  careful  to  avoid  places  and  occupations  in 
which  the,  to  them,  especially  deadly  tubercle  bacillus  lurks,  in 
the  air  or  otherwise. 

Many  consumptives  mingle  for  purposes  of  business  or  pleas- 
ure, often  for  years,  with  their  fellows.  Every  such  invalid, 
unless  he  be  intelligently  careful  in  his  habits,  is  a  source  of 
constant  danger  to  all  around  him.  Consumptives  must  be  in- 
variably taught  never  to  spit  on  the  floor  or  in  the  street  (at 
best  a  disgusting  habit),  nor  on  handkerchiefs  (which  may  do 
mischief  before  they  are  disinfected  and  washed) .  They  should 
always  expectorate  into  a  proper  receptacle,  which  may  be  fre- 


412  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

quently  and  thoroughly  cleansed.  The  streets  of  some  cities 
provide  elevated  self -cleansing  spittoons  for  public  use.  A  pocket 
flask  is  convenient  as  well  as  safe  when  the  patient  is  out  of  doors, 
or  at  his  business.  At  home  he  may  use  a  water-proof  paper  cup, 
books  made  of  old  newspaper,  moist  rags,  or  Japanese  paper 
napkins,  which,  with  their  contents,  can  be  burned.  Those  too 
ill  to  care  for  themselves  in  this  respect .  should  be  scrupulously 
cared  for  by  others.  Even  the  invalid's  ot\ti  chances  of  recovery 
are  thus  improved,  as  he  is  no  longer  running  the  risk  of  taking 
a  second  time  into  himself  material  he  had  once  cast  out.  Every 
consumptive  should  sleep  by  himself,  and  in  a  separate  room. 

As  a  protection  against  consumption  and  other  diseases,  in 
cities  the  streets  ought  always  to  be  sprinkled  before  cleaning; 
this  prevents  the  dust  containing  germs  from  rising.  In  our 
houses,  in  cleaning  the  dust  should  not  be  merely  stirred  up  and 
left  to  settle  in  a  different  (and  probably  worse)  place.  It  must 
be  removed,  with  a  damp  cloth  or  chamois,  and  this  should  after- 
wards be  washed  out,  and  the  water  allowed  to  run  off.  Sweep- 
ing is  best  done  with  moist  tea-leaves.  Certain  changes  too  in 
the  usual  style  of  furnishing  would  be  for  the  better.  Thick- 
piled  carpets,  for  instance,  might  be  replaced  by  rugs  that  can 
easily  and  often  be  taken  outside  and  thoroughly  cleansed. 
HeaYj  hangings  exclude  the  sunlight,  shut  the  bad  air  in  and 
the  fresh  air  out,  and  catch  and  hold  dust  and  germs  that  other- 
wise would  be  expelled.  Eough  fabrics  in  upholstering  might 
profitably  be  disused.  Hotel  rooms,  particularly  after  occupa- 
tion by  a  consumptive,  all  means  of  public  conveyance,  etc., 
should  be  scrupulously  cleansed. 

An  organized  movement  to  arrest  the  spread  of  consumption 
has  been  going  on  now  for  several  years  throughout  the  United 
States.  Ordinances  were  passed  relative  to  spitting  in  public 
places,  and  efforts  made  to  extend  a  general  knowledge  in  regard 
to  consumption  as  widely  as  possible  among  the  public.  The 
state  of  Massachusetts,  which  usually  manages  to  be  to  the  fore 
in  matters  of  reform,  established  the  first  State  sanatorium  at 
Eutland,  in  1898.  In  1903  was  formed  the  Boston  Association 
for  the  Eelief  and  Control  of  Tuberculosis.  ^N'ew  York  city  has 
the  honor  of  leading  the  world  in  thorough  organization  against 
consumption.  Officially  and  without  charge,  it  informs  all  ap- 
plicants whether  their  sputum  contains  bacilli.     Those  affected 


THE    FIGHT    AGAINST    CONSUMPTION  413 

are  thus  enabled  to  know  the  fact  in  time,  and  —  which  means 
everything  in  consumption  —  to  grapple  with  the  disease  at  its 
very  start.  New  York  State  is  soon  to  have  a  sanatorium  to 
cost  a  half-million  of  dollars,  and  New  Jersey  is  planning  one 
almost  as  large.  Compulsory  report  and  official  registration 
(as  in  the  cases  of  scarlet  fever  and  diphtheria)  now  exists 
throughout  New  England,  New  York,  New  Jersey,  Michigan, 
and  the  District  of  Columbia  (thirty-eight  per  cent,  of  the  whole 
population  of  the  country),  and  is  growing.  Without  being  in- 
trusive the  authorities  generally  are  beginning  to  insist  upon 
knowing  where  cases  are  housed,  from  time  to  time  by  inspec- 
tion or  report  what  progress  is  made,  etc.  Health  boards  have 
taken  measures  to  avert  the  dangers  from  diseased  cattle. 

As  a  result  of  this  movement  a  general  diminution  in  the 
number  of  cases  is  apparent.  In  New  York  city  since  1881 
the  mortality  from  consumption  has  lessened  forty  per  cent., 
and  by  1906  Dr.  Biggs,  the  able  physician  of  the  New  York 
board  of  health,  hopes  the  number  of  deaths  from  tuberculosis 
will  be  3,000  less  .annually  than  formerly.  Abroad  the  success 
from  similar  efforts  has  been  marked.  England,  which  now 
has  the  greatest  number  of  special  hospitals  for  consumptives  of 
any  country  in  the  world,  has  won  the  most  brilliant  victory. 
In  Prussia  from  1889  to  1897  the  number  of  deaths  from  tuber- 
culosis was  184,000  less  than  what  was  to  be  expected  from  the 
average  of  the  years  just  preceding.  Pasteur,  the  great  French 
chemist,  said:  "It  is  in  the  power  of  man  to  cause  all  para- 
sitic diseases  to  disappear  from  the  earth.-"  Koch  says :  "  All 
that  is  necessary  is  to  go  on  .  .  .  If  we  aim  ...  at 
striking  the  evil  at  its  root,  then  the  battle  against  tuber- 
culosis, which  has  been  so  energetically  begun,  cannot  fail  to 
have  a  victorious  issue.^^ 

As  to  cure :  It  is  now  generally  admitted  that  consumption  — 
especially  if  not  accompanied  by  any  complaint  of  the  heart, 
kidne3^s,  or  digestive  organs,  and  the  blood-making  apparatus  is 
in  good  order  —  is,  in  its  early  stages  at  least,  curable.  In  no 
stage  can  it  be  cured  by  drugs;  still  less  by  any  widely  adver- 
tised "sure  cure  for  consumption."  (Nostrums  of  this  sort  may 
almost  invariably  be  set  down  as  money-getting  devices  of  the 
conscienceless  —  to  be  shunned  as  death-traps.)  Its  successful 
treatment  is  wholly  "natural,'^  and  consists  of  building  up  the 


414  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

patient's  general  health,  and  supplying  him  with  the  elements 
needed,  so  that  his  own  constitution  can  effect  the  cure.  It  is 
one  of  the  beneficent  provisions  of  nature  that,  when  tubercle 
bacilli  find  lodgment  in  a  body,  the  body  cells  often  build  a 
thick  enclosing  wall  round  the  part  affected,  shutting  it  off 
from  the  rest  of  the  body.  If  well  nourished  by  food,  and  sup- 
plied with  abundant  fresh  air,  the  body  cells  are  often  able  for 
years  thus  successfully  to  resist  the  encroachment  of  the  bacilli, 
to  hold  them  at  bay,  and  to  give  the  affected  person  usefulness 
in  and  the  enjoyment  of  his  life.*  Successful  treatment  of  con- 
sumption builds  upon  this  fact.  Its  main  prescriptions  are  an 
abundance  of  fresh  air  and  plenty  of  food. 

The  patient,  if  possible,  "  drops  everything  "  and  becomes  an 
inmate  of  an  open-air  sanatorium.  Here  (except  in  stormy 
weather)  he  literally  lives  in  the  open  air,  summer  or  winter, 
day  and  night.  At  all  seasons  he  sleeps  either  under  the  open 
sky,  or  in  a  tent  open  at  the  top  and  sides,  on  an  open  veranda, 
or,  if  (under  stress  of  foul  weather)  in  the  house,  with  the 
windows  at  all  seasons  wide  open.  The  oxygen  effects  the  cure. 
Cold  weather  does  not  interfere  with  his  way  of  life ;  though,  of 
course,  in  winter  and  at  all  times  he  is  comfortably  clad.  He 
takes  al  fresco  sun-baths.  Six  plain  but  substantial  meals  a  day 
are  his  diet,  and  between  meals  he  has  been  known  to  swallow  in 
the  twenty-four  hours  as  many  as  thirty-six  raw  eggs.  His  meals 
consist  of  plenty  of  meat  (not  shunning  the  fat),  oatmeal  por- 
ridge, dry  toast  and  crusts  of  bread  well  chewed,  eggs,  abundant 
railk,  etc.  It  is  found  that  as  a  rule  it  is  best  for  him  not  to 
take  anything  like  violent  exercise.  (The  reason  of  this  is  that 
the  labored  breathing  it  produces  interferes  with  the  proper 
healing  of  the  injured  lung.  It  causes  to  grow  a  larger  propor- 
tion of  scar  tissue  —  tissue  filling  up  and  growing  over  the 
cavities  made  in  the  lung  by  the  disease  —  and  this  tissue  is 
useless  for  breathing  purposes.  The  more  the  patient  has  of  it 
after  recovery  the  more  imperfect  his  cure.    Indeed  during  treat- 

*  This  fact  undoubtedly  accounts  for  the  persons  the  writer  remembers 
to  have  seen  —  before  the  tubercle  bacillus  was  heard  of  —  in  various 
Rocky-mountain  localities.  They  had  been  forced  by  consumption  to  re- 
move, on  a  chance  of  improvement,  to  the  West  —  some  of  them  so  far 
gone  when  they  started  that  nobody  supposed  they  would  ever  live  to  reach 
the  Rockies.  Yet,  as  soon  as  they  arrived  there  and  entered  upon  an 
open-air  life,  they  had  begun  to  recover  and  build  up,  and  when  seen  by 
the  writer  were  apparently  as  hardy  as  men  could  be.  Many  of  them 
however  did  not  dare  leave  their  adopted  home. 


THE    FIGHT    AGAINST    CONSUMPTION  415 

ment  labored  respiration  is  often  made  impossible  by  applying 
strips  of  adhesive  plaster  to  the  outside  skin  over  the  affected 
lung,  and  by  injecting  into  the  latter  nitrogen  gas,  which  hinders 
its  action.)  The  main  remedies,  air  and  food,  are  supplemented 
by  complete  rest  of  body  and  mind.  There  are  conversation, 
reading  (out-of-doors),  and  amusements  (such  as  cards,  check- 
ers, golf,  croquet,  etc.). 

Absence  of  fever  hastens  the  cure.  It  is  the  fever  that  wears 
the  patient  out.  The  "  night  sweats  '^  that  used  popularly  to  be 
thought  so  weakening  are  now  deemed  to  be,  however  uncom- 
fortable, beneficial.  The  water  and  small  quantities  of  salt  lost 
by  them  are  easily  replaced;  while  all  else  they  carry  off,  the 
system  is  better  without.  Even  hemorrhages  —  so  revolutionized 
is  the  whole  subject  —  are  nowadays  not  dreaded  as  they  used 
to  be.  They  occur  on  the  expulsion  of  the  broken-up  tubercles; 
an  opening  is  then  made,  at  the  place  where  a  tubercle  disinte- 
grates, in  the  blood  tubes  and  blood  escapes.  One  result,  how- 
ever, of  this  is  that  the  blood  flows  over  the  diseased  part,  kills 
the  germs  it  encounters  (an  effect  of  blood,  particularly  of  shed 
blood,  upon  tubercle  bacilli),  and  knits  the  wound  together. 
Any  weakening  effect  the  loss  of  blood  may  have  is  compensated 
by  the  abundant  nourishment  of  the  treatment.  Of  the  cough, 
the  worst  effect  is  that  sometimes  it  keeps  the  patient  awake; 
often,  however,  sleep  is  obtained  by  lying  on  the  well  side.  The 
patient  stays  in  the  sanatorium  six  months,  or  better  a  year. 
On  coming  out  he  is  very  careful  for  two  3^ears;  and  then,  if 
there  has  been  no  relapse,  he  considers  himself  cured. 

The  great  majority,  however,  of  patients  must  be  treated  at 
home.  Here  they  will  follow  as  nearly  as  possible  the  same 
course  as  if  in  a  sanatorium.  And  if  (as  should  be  the  case) 
the  other  members  of  the  family  can  put  up  with  the  ^'  queer 
ways,"  do  not  mind  the  inconvenience  of  the  special  diet  and 
additional  meals,  and  the  patient  himself  is  naturally  inde- 
pendent, endowed  with  will,  and  careless  of  the  "  talk "  of 
"  friends  "  and  neighbors,  there  is  no  reason  in  the  world  why 
the  home  treatment  should  not  —  on  the  contrary  there  is  abun- 
dant reason  why  it  should  —  be  equally  successful  with  that  at 
the  best  sanatorium  in  the  land.  One  hears  of  effective  home 
treatment.  The  patient  treated  at  home  should  invariably  be 
under  a  physician's  supervision. 


416  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

It  must  still,  however,  be  confessed  that,  with  our  present 
knowledge,  advanced  consumption  is  incurable.  And,  in  all 
cases,  a  complete  restoration  to  the  condition  the  person  was  in 
before  seizure  is  impossible.  A  portion  of  the  lung  is  gone.  A 
number  of  air  cells  have  been  obliterated  (their  place  being 
taken  by  fibrous  scar  tissue,  like  what  appears  on  the  face  after 
small-pox) .  The  case,  however,  is  worse  than  small-pox,  as  vital 
tissue  has  been  destroyed,  and  a  permanent  disability  incurred. 
The  loss  of  the  aerating  cells  from  the  lung  must  ever  after 
cause  the  body  to  receive  an  insufficient  supply  of  oxygen.  The 
person  for  the  rest  of  his  life  will  be  short  of  breath. 

There  are  hopeful  statistics  of  the  success  of  this  treatment. 
In  1901  Koch  stated  the  German  sanatoria  —  which  receive 
only  patients  in  the  early  stages  —  were  discharging  twenty  per 
cent,  cured;  he  felt  sure,  however,  by  proper  management  the 
percentage  could  be  raised  to  fifty  —  perhaps  still  higher.  In 
the  cold  climates  sanatoria  receiving  practically  the  same  class 
of  patients  cure,  it  has  been  stated,  from  seventy  to  seventy-five 
per  cent.  For  twelve  years  the  sanatorium  for  women  at  Sharon, 
Mass.,  has  been  highly  successful.  Eecently  sanatoria  in  the 
West  and  Southwest  have  successfully  treated  some  cases  even 
in  the  third  or  worst  stage  of  consumption.  In  some  respects 
as  good  an  institution  as  we  can  find  to  take  figures  from  is  the 
United  States  sanatorium  for  consumptive  sailors  at  Fort  Stan- 
ton, New  Mexico;  because,  though  it  admits  cases  even  in  the 
most  advanced  stages,  we  may  feel  absolutely  sure  of  the  cor- 
rectness of  the  facts  given.  Its  report  in  1903  shows  that,  in 
the  three  and  a  half  years  of  its  existence  —  exclusive  of  patients 
still  under  treatment  with  as  yet  undecided  results  —  it  had 
cured  nearly  fifty-one  per  cent,  of  its  patients  in  the  first  stage ; 
nearly  nine  per  cent,  of  those  in  the  second  and  third  stages 
(the  report  furnishes  no  means  of  telling  how  many  of  these 
belonged  in  the  second)  ;  and  over  fifteen  per  cent,  of  all  three 
classes  in  a  lump.  Consumption  is  no  longer  the  hopeless  mal- 
ady it  was  once  deemed.  A  long,  bright,  and  useful  life  may' 
still  be  his  who  has  felt  upon  him  the  finger  of  this'  dire  disease, 
if  he  understands  it  in  time,  and  by  the  proper  means  patiently 
and  energetically  combats  it. 

One  of  the  most  brilliant  achievements  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury —  which  made  more  progress  in  medicine  and  surgery  than 


THE   FIGHT   AGAINST   CONSUMPTION  417 

had  been  made  during  the  previous  two  thousand  years  —  was 
the  germ  theory  of  disease.  Though  this  has  not  yet  brought 
complete  mastery  over  Consumption,  the  facts,  in  regard  to  the 
most  fatal  malady  known  to  the  race,  that  we  have  learned  its 
cause,  know  how  to  prevent  its  spread,  and  in  its  early  stages 
can  cure,  well  deserve  a  place  in  any  discriminating  list  of  mod- 
ern great  discoveries. 


aZ 


418  MODERN  INVENTIONS 


MALARIA  AND  MOSQUITOES.* 

By  GEORGE  M.  STERNBERG,  M.  D.,  LL.D. 

IN  my  address  as  president  of  the  Biological  Society,  in  1896, 
the  subject  chosen  was  "The  malarial  parasite  and  other 
pathogenic  protozoa."  This  address  was  published  in 
March,  1897,  in  the  Popular  Science  Monthly,  and  I  must  refer 
you  to  this  illustrated  paper  for  a  detailed  account  of  the 
morphological  characters  of  the  malarial  parasite.  It  is  my  inten- 
tion at  the  present  time  to  speak  of  "  malaria  "  in  a  more  general 
way,  and  of  the  recent  experimental  evidence  in  support  of 
Manson^s  suggestion,  first  made  in  1894,  that  the  mosquito  serves 
as  an  intermediate  host  for  the  parasite.  The  discovery  of  this 
parasite  may  justly  be  considered  one  of  the  greatest  achieve- 
ments of  scientific  research  during  the  nineteenth  century. 
Twenty-five  years  ago  the  best-informed  physicians  entertained 
erroneous  ideas  with  reference  to  the  nature  of  malaria  and  the 
etiology  of  the  malarial  fevers.  Observation  had  taught  them 
that  there  was  something  in  the  air  in  the  vicinity  of  marshes  in 
tropical  regions,  and  during  the  summer  and  autumn  in  semi- 
tropical  and  temperate  regions,  which  gave  rise  to  periodic 
fevers  in  those  exposed  in  such  localities,  and  the  usual  inference 
was  that  this  something  was  of  gaseous  form  —  that  it  was  a 
special  kind  of  bad  air  generated  in  swampy  localities  under 
favorable  meteorological  conditions.  It  was  recognized  at  the 
same  time  that  there  are  other  kinds  of  bad  air,  such  as  the 
offensive  emanations  from  sewers  and  the  products  of  respira- 
tion of  man  and  animals,  but  the  term  malaria  was  reserved 
especially  for  the  kind  of  bad  air  which  was  supposed  to  give 
rise  to  the  so-called  malarial  fevers.  In  the  light  of  our  present 
knowledge  it  is  evident  that  this  term  is  a  misnomer.     There 

*  This  address  was  delivered  at  a  meeting  of  the  Philosophical  Society 
of  Washington,  December  8,  1900.  It  appeared  in  the  Popular  Science 
Monthly,  February,  1901,  copyright,  and  is  reprinted  here  by  permission 
of  the  author. 


MALARIA   AND   MOSQUITOES  419 

is  no  good  reason  for  believing  that  the  air  of  swamps  is  any 
more  deleterious  to  those  who  breathe  it  than  the  air  of  the  sea- 
coast  or  that  in  the  vicinity  of  inland  lakes  and  ponds.  More- 
over, the  stagnant  pools  which  are  covered  with  a  '^  green  scum/^ 
and  from  which  bubbles  of  gas  are  given  off,  have  lost  all  terrors 
for  the  w^ell-informed  man,  except  in  so  far  as  they  serve  as 
breeding  places  for  mosquitoes  of  the  genus  Anopheles.  The 
green  scum  is  made  up  of  harmless  algae,  such  as  Spirogyra, 
Zygnema,  Protococcus,  Euglena,  etc. ;  and  the  gas  which  is  given 
off  from  the  mud  at  the  bottom  of  such  stagnant  pools  is  for  the 
most  part  a  well-known  and  comparatively  harmless  compound 
of  hydrogen  and  carbon  —  methane  or  "  marsh  gas.^'  In  short, 
we  now  know  that  the  air  in  the  vicinity  of  marshes  is  not 
deleterious  because  of  any  special  kind  of  bad  air  present  in  such 
localities,  but  because  it  contains  mosquitoes  infected  with  a  para- 
site known  to  be  the  specific  cause  of  the  so-called  malarial 
fevers.  This  parasite  was  discovered  in  the  blood  of  patients 
suffering  from  intermittent  fevers  by  Laveran,  a  surgeon  in  the 
French  army,  whose  investigations  were  conducted  in  Algiers. 
This  famous  discovery  was  made  toward  the  end  of  the  year 
1880,  but  it  was  several  years  later  before  the  profession  gen- 
eralty  began  to  attach  much  importance  to  the  alleged  discovery. 
It  was  first  confirmed  by  Eichard  in  1882;  then  by  the  Italian 
investigators,  Marchiafava,  Celli,  Golgi,  and.Bignami ;  by  Coun- 
cilman, Osier,  and  Thayer,  in  this  country,  and  by  many  other 
competent  observers  in  various  parts  of  the  world.  The  Italian 
investigators  named  not  only  confirmed  the  presence  of  the 
parasite  discovered  by  Laveran  in  the  blood  of  those  suffering 
from  malarial  fevers,  but  they  demonstrated  its  etiological  role 
by  inoculation  experiments  and  added  greatly  to  our  knowledge 
of  its  life  history  (1883-1898).  The  fact  that  the  life  history 
of  the  parasite  includes  a  period  of  existence  in  the  body  of  the 
mosquito  as  an  intermediate  host  has  recently  been  demonstrated 
by  the  English  army  surgeons  Manson  and  Ross,  and  confirmed 
by  numerous  observers,  including  the  famous  German  bacteriolo- 
gist, Koch. 

The  discoveries  referred  to,  as  is  usual,  have  had  to  withstand 
the  criticism  of  conservative  physicians,  who,  having  adopted 
the  prevailing  theories  with  reference  to  the  etiology  of  periodic 
fevers,  were  naturally  skeptical  as  to  the  reliability  of  the  obser- 


420  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

vations  made  by  Laveran  and  those  who  claimed  to  have  con- 
firmed his  discovery.  The  first  contention  was  that  the  bodies 
described  as  present  in  the  blood  were  not  parasites,  but  de- 
formed blood  corpuscles.  This  objection  was  soon  set  at  rest 
by  the  demonstration,  repeatedly  made,  that  the  intra-corpuscu- 
lar  forms  underwent  distinct  amoeboid  movements.  No  one 
witnessing  these  movements  could  doubt  that  he  was  observing 
a  living  micro-organism.  The  same  was  true  of  the  extra-cor- 
puscular flagellate  bodies  which  may  be  seen  to  undergo  very 
active  movements,  as  a  result  of  which  the  red  blood  corpuscles 
are  violently  displaced  and  the  flagellate  body  itself  dashes  about 
in  the  field  of  view. 

The  first  confirmation  in  this  country  of  Laveran^s  discovery 
of  amoeboid  parasites  in  the  blood  of  malarial-fever  patients  was 
made  by  myself  in  the  pathological  laboratory  of  the  Johns 
Hopkins  University  in  March,  1886.  In  May,  1885,  I  had 
visited  Eome  as  a  delegate  to  the  International  Sanitary  Con- 
ference, convened  in  that  city  under  the  auspices  of  the  Italian 
Government,  and  while  there  I  visited  the  Santo  Spirito  Hospital 
for  the  purpose  of  witnessing  a  demonstration,  by  Drs.  Marchi- 
af ava  and  Celli,  of  that  city,  of  the  presence  of  the  'Plasmodium 
malarice  in  the  blood  of  persons  suffering  from  intermittent 
fever.  Blood  was  drawn  from  the  finger  during  the  febrile 
attack  and  from  itidividuals  to  whom  quinine  had  not  been 
administered.  The  demonstration  was  entirely  satisfactory,  and 
no  doubt  was  left  in  my  mind  that  I  saw  living  parasitic  micro- 
organisms in  the  interior  of  red  blood  corpuscles  obtained  from 
the  circulation  of  malarial-fever  patients.  The  motions  were 
quite  slow,  and  were  manifested  by  a  gradual  change  of  outline 
rather  than  by  visible  movement.  After  a  period  of  amoeboid 
activity  of  greater  or  less  duration,  the  body  again  assumed  an 
oval  or  spherical  form  and  remained  quiescent  for  a  time.  While 
in  this  form  it  was  easily  recognized,  as  the  spherical  shape 
caused  the  light  passing  through  it  to  be  refracted,  and  gave  the 
impression  of  a  body  having  a  dark  contour  and  a  central 
vacuole,  but  when  it  was  flattened  out  and  undergoing  amoeboid 
changes  in  form  it  was  necessary  to  focus  very  carefully  and  to 
have  a  good  illumination  in  order  to  see  it.  The  objective  used 
was  a  Zeiss'  one-twelfth  inch  homogeneous  oil  immersion. 

But,  very  properl}^,  skepticism  with  reference  to  the  casual 


MALARIA    AND    MOSQUITOES  421 

relation  of  these  bodies  to  the  disease  with  which  they  are  asso- 
ciated was  not  removed  by  the  demonstration  that  they  are  in 
fact  blood  parasites,  that  they  are  present  in  considerable  num- 
bers during  the  febrile  paroxysms,  and  that  they  disappear  dur- 
ing the  interval  between  these  paroxysms.  These  facts,  however, 
give  strong  support  to  the  inference  that  they  are  indeed  the 
cause  of  the  disease.  This  inference  is  further  supported  by 
the  evident  destruction  of  red  blood  corpuscles  by  the  parasite, 
as  shown  by  the  presence  of  grains  of  black  pigment  in  the 
amoeba-like  micro-organisms  observed  in  these  corpuscles  and 
the  accumulation  of  this  insoluble  blood  pigment  in  the  liver 
and  spleen  of  those  who  have  suffered  repeated  attacks  of  inter- 
mittent fever.  The  enormous  loss  of  red  blood  corpuscles  as  a 
result  of  such  attacks  is  shown  by  the  anaemic  condition  of  the 
patient  and  also  by  actual  enumeration.  According  to  Kelsch, 
a  patient  of  vigorous  constitution  in  the  first  four  days  of  a 
quotidian  intermittent  fever,  or  a  remittent  of  first  invasion, 
may  suffer  a  loss  of  2,000,000  of  red  blood  corpuscles  per  cubic 
millimeter  of  blood,  and  in  certain  cases  a  loss  of  1,000,000  has 
been  verified  at  the  end  of  twenty-four  hours.  In  cases  of  inter- 
mittent fever  having  a  duration  of  twenty  to  thirty  days  the 
number  of  red  blood  cells  may  be  reduced  from  the  normal, 
which  is  about  5,000,000  per  cubic  millimeter,  to  1,000,000,  or 
even  less.  In  view  of  this  destruction  of  the  red  blood  cells  and 
the  demonstrated  fact  that  a  certain  number  at  least  are  de- 
stroyed during  the  febrile  paroxysms  by  a  blood  parasite  which 
invades  the  cells  and  grows  at  the  expense  of  the  continued 
haemoglobin,  it  may  be  thought  that  the  etiological  role  of  the 
parasite  should  be  conceded.  But  scientific  conservatism  de- 
mands more  than  this,  and  the  final  proof  has  been  afforded  by 
the  experiments  of  G-erhardt  and  of  Marchiafava  and  Celli  — 
since  confirmed  by  many  others.  This  proof  consists  in  the  ex- 
perimental inoculation  of  healthy  individuals  with  blood  con- 
taining the  parasite  and  the  development  of  a  typical  attack  of 
periodic  fever  as  a  result  of  such  inoculation.  Marchiafava  and 
Bignami,  in  their  elaborate  article  upon  "Malaria,"  published 
in  the  "  Twentieth  Century  Practice  of  Medicine,"  say : 

The  transmission  of  the  disease  occurs  equally  whether  the  blood  is  taken 
during  the  apyretic  period  or  during  a  febrile  paroxysm,  whether  it  con- 
tains young  parasites  or  those  in  process  of  development,  or  whether  it 


422  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

contains  sporulation  forms.  Only  the  crescent  forms,  when  injected  alone, 
do  not  transmit  the  infection,  as  has  been  demonstrated  by  Bastianelli,  Big- 
nami,  and  Thayer,  and  as  can  be  readily  understood  when  we  remember  the 
biological  significance  of  these  forms. 

In  order  that  the  disease  be  reproduced  in  the  inoculated  subject,  it  is 
not  necessary  toi  inject  the  malarial  blood  into  a  vein  of  the  recipient,  as 
has  been  done  in  most  of  the  experiments;  as  subcutaneous  injection  is 
all-sufficient.  Nor  is  it  necessary  to  inject  several  cubic  centimeters  as  was 
done  especially  in  the  earlier  experiments ;  a  fraction  of  a  cubic  centimeter 
will  sufiice  and  even  less  than  one  drop,  as  Bignami  has  shown. 

After  the  inoculation  of  a  healthy  individual  with  blood  con- 
taining the  parasite  a  period  varying  from  four  to  twenty-one 
days  elapses  before  the  occurrence  of  a  febrile  paroxysm.  This 
is  the  so-called  period  of  incubation,  during  which,  no  doubt,  the 
parasite  is  undergoing  multiplication  in  the  blood  of  the  inocu- 
lated individual.  The  duration  of  this  period  depends  to  some 
extent  upon  the  quantity  of  blood  used  for  the  inoculation  and 
its  richness  in  parasites.  It  also  depends  upon  the  particular 
variety  of  the  parasite  present,  for  it  has  been  ascertained  that 
there  are  at  least  three  distinct  varieties  of  the  malarial  parasite 
—  one  which  produces  the  quartan  type  of  fever,  in  which  there 
is  a  paroxysm  every  third  day  and  in  which,  in  experimental  in- 
oculations made,  the  period  of  incubation  has  varied  from  eleven 
to  eighteen  days;  in  the  tertian  type,  or  second  day  fever,  the 
period  of  incubation  noted  has  been  from  nine  to  twelve  days; 
and  in  the  sestivo-autumnal  type  the  duration  has  usually  not 
exceeded  five  days.  The  parasite  associated  with  each  of  these 
types  of  fever  may  be  recognized  by  an  expert,  and  there  is  no 
longer  any  doubt  that  the  difference  in  type  is  due  to  the  fact 
that  different  varieties  or  "  species  "  of  the  malarial  parasite  exist 
each  having  a  different  period  of  development.  Blood  drawn 
during  a  febrile  paroxysm  shows  the  parasite  in  its  different 
stages  of  intra-corpuscular  development.  The  final  result  of  this 
development  is  a  segmenting  body,  having  pigment  granules  at 
its  center,  which  occupies  the  greater  part  of  the  interior  of  the 
red  corpuscle.  The  number  of  segments  into  which  this  body 
divides  differs  in  the  different  types  of  fever,  and  there- are  other 
points  of  difference  by  which  the  several  varieties  may  be  dis- 
tinguished one  from  the  other,  but  which  it  is  not  necessary  to 
mention  at  the  present  time.  The  important  point  is  that  the 
result  of  the  segmentation  of  the  adult  parasites  contained  in  the 


MALARIA   AND   MOSQUITOES  423 

red  corpuscles  is  the  formation  of  a  large  number  of  spore-like 
bodies,  which  are  set  free  by  the  disintegration  of  the  remains  of 
the  blood  corpuscles  and  which  constitute  a  new  brood  of  repro- 
ductive elements,  which  in  their  turn  invade  healthy  blood 
corpuscles  and  effect  their  destruction.  This  cycle  of  develop- 
ment, without  doubt,  accounts  for  the  periodicity  of  the  char- 
acteristic febrile  paroxysms;  and,  as  stated,  the  different  vari- 
eties complete  their  cycle  of  development  in  different  periods  of 
time,  thus  accounting  for  the  recurrence  of  the  paroxysms  at  in- 
tervals of  forty-eight  hours  in  one  type  of  fever  and  of  three 
da3''s  in  another  type.  When  a  daily  paroxysm  occurs,  this  is  be- 
lieved to  be  due  to  the  alternate  development  of  two  groups  of 
parasites  of  the  tertian  variety,  as  it  has  not  been  possible  to  dis- 
tinguish the  parasite  found  in  the  blood  of  persons  suffering 
from  a  quotidian  form  of  intermittent  fever  from  that  of  the 
tertian  form.  Yery  often,  also,  the  daily  paroxysm  occurs  on 
succeeding  days  at  a  different  hour,  while  the  paroxysm  every 
alternate  day  is  at  the  same  hour,  a  fact  which  sustains  the  view 
that  we  have  to  deal,  in  such  cases,  with  two  broods  of  the  ter- 
tian parasite  which  mature  on  alternate  days.  In  other  cases 
there  may  be  two  distinct  paroxysms  on  the  same  day  and  none 
on  the  following  day,  indicating  the  presence  of  two  broods  of 
tertian  parasites  maturing  at  different  hours  every  second  day. 
Manson,  in  his  work  on  tropical  diseases,  recently  published, 
accounts  for  the  febrile  paroxysm  as  follows : 

In  all  malarial  attacks  this  periodicity  tends  to  become,  and  in  most 
attacks  actually  is,  quotidian,  tertian,  or  quartan  in  type.  If  we  study 
the  parasites  associated  with  these  various  types  we  find  that  they,  too,  as 
has  been  fully  described  already,  have  a  corresponding  periodicity.  We 
have  also  seen  that  the  commencement  of  the  fever  in  each  case  corresponds 
with  the  breaking  up  of  the  sporulating  form  of  the  parasite  concerned. 
This  last  is  an  important  point ;  for,  doubtless,  when  this  breaking  up  takes 
place,  besides  the  pigment  set  free,  other  residual  matters  —  not  so  striking 
optically,  it  is  true,  as  the  pigment,  but  none  the  less  real  —  probably  are 
liberated;  a  haemoglobin  solvent,  for  example,  as  I  have  suggested. 
Whether  it  be  this  haemoglobin  solvent,  or  whether  it  be  some  othet  sub- 
stance, which  is  the  pyrogenetic  agent,  I  believe  that  some  to-in,  hitherto 
inclosed  in  the  body  of  the  parasite,  or  in  the  infected  corpuscle,  escapes 
into  the  blood  at  the  moment  of  sporulation. 

The  periodicity  of  the  clinical  phenomena  is  accounted  for  by  the  period- 
icity of  the  parasite.  How  are  we  to  account  for  the  periodicity  of  the 
parasite?     It  is  true  that  it  has  a  life  of  twenty-four  hours,  or  of  a  multi- 


424  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

pie  of  twenty-four  hours;  but  why  should  the  individual  parasites  of  the 
countless  swarm  all  conspire  to  mature  at  or  about  the  same  time?  That 
they  do  so  —  not  perhaps  exactly  at  the  same  moment,  but  within  a  very 
short  time  of  each  other  —  is  a  fact,  and  it  is  one  which  can  be  easily  dem- 
onstrated. If  we  wish  to  see  the  sporulating  forms  of  the  Plasmodium  in 
a  pure  intermittent,  it  is  practically  useless  to  look  for  them  in  the  blood 
during  the  later  stages  of  fever,  or  during  the  interval,  or  during  any  time 
but  just  before,  during,  or  soon  after  rigor.  If  we  wish  to  see  the  early 
and  unpigmented  forms,  we  must  look  for  them  during  the  later  stage  of 
rigor  or  the  earlier  part  of  the  stage  of  pyrexia.  And  so  with  the  other 
stages  of  the  parasite ;  each  has  its  appropriate  relationship  to  the  fever 
cycle. 

There  are  numeroiis  cases  of  malarial  fever  in  which  there  is 
no  distinct  intermission  and  in  which  the  course  of  the  fever  is 
either  continued  or  remittent  in  character.  Fevers  of  this  type 
usually  occur  in  the  late  summer  or  in  the  autumn  (sestivo- 
autumnal)  and  are  believed  to  be  due  to  infection  by  two  distinct 
varieties  of  the  parasite ;  one,  the  tertian  sestivo-autumnal,  causes 
a  fever  characterized  by  a  marked  rise  in  the  temperature  every 
second  day ;  the  other  a  fever  in  which  there  is  a  daily  elevation 
of  temperature.  There  are  certain  peculiarities  relating  to  the 
intra-corpuscular  development  of  these  parasites  which  enables 
us  to  differentiate  them  from  the  tertian  and  quartan  parasites 
of  intermittent  fever,  but  a  more  striking  difference  to  be  ob- 
served in  their  life  C3^cle  of  development  in  the  blood  of  man  is 
the  presence  of  peculiar  crescentic-shaped  bodies,  which  play  an 
important  part  in  their  further  development  in  the  body  of  an 
intermediate  host  —  the  mosquito.  Associated  with  these  "  cres- 
cents ''  fusiform  and  ovoid  bodies  are  often  seen  which  are  no 
doubt  similar  in  their  origin  and  function.  The  crescents  are  a 
little  longer  than  the  diameter  of  a  red  blood  corpuscle  and  are 
about  three  times  as  long  as  broad.  They  contain  in  the  central 
portion  grains  of  pigment  (melanin)  derived  from  the  hsemo- 
globin  of  the  infected  corpuscle,  which  has  been  changed  into  a 
crescentic  body  as  a  result  of  the  development  of  the  malarial 
parasite  in  its  interior.  When  a  fresh  preparation  of  malarial 
blood  containing  these  crescents  is  observed  under  the  micro- 
scope, while  a  majority  of  them  retain  the  crescentic  form,  others 
may  be  seen,  after  an  interval  of  ten  minutes  or  more,  to  change 
in  form,  first  becoming  oval  and  then  round ;  then,  in  the  inte- 
rior of  these  round  bodies  an  active  movement  of  the  pigment 


MALARIA    AND    MOSQUITOES  425 

granules  occurs;  this  is  followed  by  the  thrusting  forth  from 
the  periphery  of  several  filaments  —  usually  four  —  which  have 
flagella-like  movements.  These,  as  a  rule,  become  detached  and 
continue  to  move  rapidly  among  the  blood  corpuscles.  With  ref- 
erence to  the  function  of  these  motile  filaments,  Marchiafava 
says : 

In  these  later  days  there  is  increasing  belief  in  the  theory,  which  we 
uphold,  that  the  crescents  and  the  flagellata  are  sexual  forms  of  the 
malarial  parasite,  and  that  a  reproductive  act  (in  which  the  flagellum  rep- 
resents the  male  element  and  an  adult  crescent  the  female  cell)  gives  rise 
to  the  new  being  which  begins  its  existence  in  the  tissues  of  the  mosquito. 

The  crescentic  bodies  may  be  found  in  the  blood  of  man  long 
after  all  febrile  symptoms  have  disappeared,  and  it  is  generally 
recognized  that  they  are  not  directly  concerned  in  the  production 
of  the  phenomena  which  constitute  a  malarial  attack  and  that 
the  administration  of  quinine  has  no  influence  in  causing  them 
to  disappear  from  the  blood.  On  the  other  hand,  the  febrile 
phenomena  are  directly  associated  with  the  appearance  of  the 
amoeboid  form  of  the  parasite  in  the  interior  of  the  red  blood 
corpuscles,  and  the  administration  of  suitable  doses  of  quinine 
has  a  marked  effect  in  causing  these  amcebo-like  micro-organisms 
to  disappear  from  the  blood. 

These  crescentic  bodies  are  not  found  in  the  benign  tertian 
and  quartan  intermittent  fevers,  but  are  characteristic  of  the 
malignant  forms  of  malarial  infection,  including  the  so-called 
sestivo-autumnal  fever.  In  these  forms  of  fever  they  are  not 
seen  at  the  outset  of  the  attack,  and  they  have  no  direct  influence 
upon  the  course  of  the  fever.  A  week  usually  elapses  between  the 
first  appearance  of  the  amoeboid  form  of  the  parasite  and  that 
of  these  crescentic  bodies.  They  are  often  found  in  the  blood 
some  time  after  all  symptoms  of  fever  have  disappeared,  and  are 
associated  with  the  malarial  cachexia  which  follows  an  attack 
of  sestivo-autumnal  fever.  When  blood  containing  these  cres- 
cents is  ingested  by  a  mosquito  of  the  genus  Anoplieles,  the  fol- 
lowing very  remarkable  transformations  occur:  Some  of  the 
crescents  are  transformed  into  hyaline  flagellate  bodies  having 
active  movements;  others  are  changed  into  granular  spheres. 
"The  flagella  break  away  from  the  hyaline  bodies  and,  approach- 
ing the  granular  spheres,  apjoear  to  seek  energetically  to  enter 


426  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

these  bodies.  A  minute  papilla  is  given  off  from  the  surface 
of  the  sphere,  seeming  to  be  projected  to  meet  the  attacking 
flagellum.  At  this  point,  one  of  the  flagella  succeeds  in  enter- 
ing the  sphere,  causing  an  active  movement  of  its  contents  for  a 
brief  time,  after  which  the  flagellum  disappears  from  view 
and  the  contents  become  quiescent.  This  is  no  doubt 
an  act  of  impregnation.  After  a  time  the  impregnated  granular 
sphere  alters  its  shape,  becoming  oval,  and  later  ver- 
micular in  form.  The  pigment  granules  are  now  seen  at  the 
posterior  part  of  this  body,  which,  after  the  changes  mentioned, 
exhibits  active  movements.  It  is  believed  that  this  motile 
vermicular  body  penetrates  the  wall  of  the  mosquito's  stomach. 
Here  it  grows  rapidly  and,  after  a  few  days,  may  be  seen  pre- 
jecting  from  the  surface  as  a  spherical  mass.  In  the  meantime 
the  contents  are  transformed  into  spindle-shaped  bodies  (sporo- 
zoites)  which  are  subsequently  set  free  by  the  rupture  of  the 
capsule  of  the  mother  cell.  According  to  Manson,  these  spindle- 
shaped  bodies  pass  from  the  body  cavity  of  the  mosquito,  prob- 
ably by  way  of  the  blood,  to  the  3-lobed  veneno-salivary  glands 
lying  on  each  side  of  the  fore  part  of  the  thorax  of  the  insect. 
'^  These  glands  communicate  with  the  base  of  the  mosquito's 
proboscis  by  means  of  a  long  duct,  along  the  radicles  of  which 
the  clear,  plump  cells  of  the  gland  are  arranged.  '  The  sporozoites 
can  be  readily  recognized  in  many,  though  not  in  all,  of  the  cells, 
especially  in  those  of  the  middle  lobe,  and  also  free  in  the  ducts. 
So  numerous  are  they  in  some  of  the  cells  that  the  appearance 
they  present  is  suggestive  of  a  bacillus-laden  lepra-cell." 

The  hypothesis  that  malarial  infection  results  from  the  bites 
of  mosquitoes  was  advanced  and  ably  supported  by  Dr.  A.  F.  A. 
King,  of  Washington,  D.  C,  in  a  paper  read  before  the  Philo- 
sophical Society  on  February  10,  1883,  and  published  in  the 
Popular  Science  Monthly  in  September  of  the  same  year.  In 
1894  Manson  supported  the  same  hj^pothesis  in  a  paper  pub- 
lished in  the  British  Medical  Journal  (December  8),  and  the  fol- 
lowing year  (1895)  Eoss  made  the  important  discovery  that 
when  blood  containing  the  crescentic  bodies  was  ingested  by  the 
mosquito  these  crescents  rapidly  underwent  changes  similar  to 
those  heretofore  described,  resulting  in  the  formation  of  motile 
filaments,  which  become  detached  from  the  parent  body  and  con-  • 
tinue  to  exhibit  active  movements.     In  1897  Eoss  ascertained 


MALARIA    AND    MOSQUITOES  427 

further  that  when  blood  containing  crescents  was  fed  to  a  par- 
ticular species  of  mosquito,  living  pigmented  parasites  could 
be  found  in  the  stomach  walls  of  the  insect.  Continuing  his 
researches  with  a  parasite  of  the  same  class  which  is  found  in 
birds,  and  in  which  the  mosquito  also  serves  as  an  intermediate 
host,  Eoss  found  that  this  parasite  enters  the  stomach  wall  of 
the  insect,  and,  as  a  result  of  its  development  in  that  locality, 
forms  reproductive  bodies  (sporozoites),  which  subsequently  find 
their  way  to  the  veneno-salivary  glands  of  the  insect  which  is 
now  capable  of  infecting  other  birds  of  the  same  species  as  that 
from  which  the  blood  was  obtained  in  the  first  instance.  Eoss 
further  showed  that  the  mosquito  which  served  as  an  interme- 
diate host  for  this  parasite  could  not  transmit  the  malarial  para- 
site of  man  or  another  similar  parasite  of  birds  ( halter idium). 
These  discoveries  of  Eoss  have  been  confirmed  by  Grassi,  Koch, 
and  others,  and  it  has  been  shown  that  the  mosquitoes  which 
serve  as  intermediate  hosts  for  the  malarial  parasites  of  man  be- 
long to  the  genus  Anopheles^  and  especially  to  the  species  known 
as  Anopheles  claviger. 

The  question  whether  mosquitoes  infected  with  the  malarial 
parasite  invariably  become  infected  as  a  result  of  the  ingestion 
of  human  blood  containing  this  parasite  has  not  been  settled  in 
a  definite  manner,  but  certain  facts  indicate  that  this  is  not  the 
case.  Thus  there  are  localities  noted  for  being  extremely  dan- 
gerous on  account  of  the  malarial  fevers  contracted  by  those  who 
visit  them,  which  on  this  very  account  are  rarely  visited  by  man. 
Yet  there  must  be  a  great  abundance  of  infected  mosquitoes  in 
these  localities,  and  especially  in  low,  swampy  regions  in  the 
Tropics.  If  man  and  the  mosquitoes  are  alone  concerned  in  the 
propagation  of  this  parasite,  hov\^  shall  we  account  for  the  abun- 
dance, of  infected  mosquitoes  in  uninhabited  marshes?  It  ap- 
pears probable  that  some  other  vertebrate  animal  serves  in  place 
of  man  to  maintain  the  life  cycle  of  the  parasite,  or  that  it  may 
be  propagated  through  successive  generations  of  mosquitoes. 

It  is  well  known  that  persons  engaged  in  digging  canals,  rail- 
road cuts,  etc.,  in  malarious  regions  are  especially  liable  to  be  at- 
tacked with  one  or  the  other  of  the  forms  of  malarial  fever. 
This  may  be  due  to  the  fact  that  the  digging  operations  result  in 
the  formation  of  little  pools  suitable  for  the  development  of  the 
eggs  of  Anopheles;  but  another  explanation  has  been  offered. 


428  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

Eoss  and  others  have  found  in  infected  mosquitoes  certain  bodies, 
described  by  Eoss  as  "  black  spores/'  which  resist  decomposition 
and  which  may  be  resting  spores  capable  of  retaining  their  vi- 
tality for  a  long  time.  The  suggestion  is  that  these  "black 
spores  ^^  or  other  encysted  reproductive  bodies  may  have  been 
deposited  in  the  soil  by  mosquitoes  long  since  defunct,  "  and 
that  in  moving  the  soil  these  dormant  parasites  are  set  at  liberty, 
and  so  in  air,  in  water,  or  otherwise  gain  access  to  the  workmen 
engaged '^  (Manson).  This  hypothesis  is  not  supported  by  re- 
cent observations,  which  indicate  that  infection  in  man  occurs 
only  as  a  result  of  inoculation  through  the  bite  of  an  infected 
mosquito.  The  question  is  whether  malarial  fevers  can  be  con- 
tracted in  marshy  localities  independently  of  the  mosquito, 
which  has  been  demonstrated  to  be  an  intermediate  host  of  the 
malarial  parasite?  Is  this  parasite  present  in  the  air  or  water 
in  such  localities,  as  well  as  in  the  bodies  of  infected  mosquitoes  ? 
Its  presence  has  never  been  demonstrated  by  the  microscope; 
but  this  fact  has  little  value  in  view  of  the  great  variety  of 
micro-organisms  present  in  marsh  water  or  suspended  in  the  air 
everywhere  near  the  surface  of  the  ground,  and  the  difficulty  of 
recognizing  the  elementary  reproductive  bodies  by  which  the 
various  species  are  maintained  through  successive  generations. 
It  would  appear  that  a  crucial  experiment  for  the  determination 
of  this  question  would  be  to  expose  healthy  individuals  in  a 
malarious  region  and  to  exclude  the  mosquito  by  some  appro, 
priate  means.  This  experiment  has  been  made  during  the  past 
summer,  and  the  result  up  to  the  present  time  has  been  reported 
by  Manson  in  the  London  Lancet  of  September  29.  Five 
healthy  individuals  have  lived  in  a  hut  on  the  Eoman  Campagna 
since  early  in  the  month  of  July.  They  have  been  protected 
against  mosquito  bites  by  mosquito-netting  screens  in  the  doors 
a;nd  windows  and  by  mosquito  bars  over  the  beds.  THey  go 
about  freely  during  the  daytime,  but  remain  in  their  protected 
hut  from  sunset  to  sunrise.  At  the  time  Manson  made  his  re- 
port all  these  individuals  remained  in  perfect  health.  It  has 
long  been  known  that  laborers  could  come  from  the  villages  in 
the  mountainous  regions  near  the  Eoman  Campagna  and  work 
during  the  day,  returning  to  their  homes  at  night,  without  great 
danger  of  contracting  the  fever,  while  those  who  remained  on 
the  Campagna  at  night  ran  great  risk  of  falling  sick  with  fever, 


MALARIA    AND    MOSQUITOES  429 

as  a  result  of  "  exposure  to  the  night  air."  What  has  already 
been  said  makes  it  appear  extremely  probable  that  the  "night 
air/'  per  se,  is  no  more  dangerous  than  the  day  air,  but  that  the 
real  danger  consists  in  the  presence  of  infected  mosquitoes  of  a 
species  which  seeks  its  food  at  night.  As  pointed  out  by  King, 
in  his  paper  already  referred  to,  it  has  repeatedly  been  claimed 
by  travelers  in  malarious  regions  that  sleeping  under  a  mosquito 
bar  is  an  effectual  method  of  prophylaxis  against  intermittent 
fevers. 

That  malarial  fevers  may  be  transmitted  by  mosquitoes  of  the 
genus  Anopheles  was  first  demonstrated  by  the  Italian  physician 
Bignami,  whose  experiments  were  made  in  the  Santo  Spirito 
Hospital  in  Eome.  The  subjects  of  the  experiment,  with  their 
full  consent,  were  placed  in  a  suitable  room  and  exposed  to  the 
bites  of  mosquitoes  brought  from  Maccarese,  "  a  marshy  place 
with  an  evil  but  deserved  reputation  for  the  intensity  of  its 
fevers.^^  It  has  been  objected  to  these  experiments  that  they 
were  made  in  Eome,  at  a  season  of  the  year  when  malarial  fevers 
prevail  to  a  greater  or  less  extent  in  that  city,  but  Marchiafava 
and  Bignami  say : 

It  is  well  known  to  all  physicians  here  that,  although  there  are  some  cen- 
ters of  malaria  in  certain  portions  of  the  suburbs,  the  city  proper  is  en- 
tirely free  from  malaria,  as  long  experience  has  demonstrated,  and  at  no 
season  of  the  year  does  one  acquire  the  disease  in  Rome. 

In  view  of  the  objection  made,  a  crucial  experiment  has  re- 
cently been  made  in  the  city  of  London.  The  result  is  reported 
by  Manson,  as  follows: 

Mosquitoes  infected  with  the  parasite  of  benign  tertian  malarial  fever 
were  sent  from  Rome  to  England,  and  were  allowed  to  feed  upon  the  blood 
of  a  perfectly  healthy  individual  (Dr.  Manson's  son,  who  had  never  had 
malarial  disease).  Forty  mosquitoes  in  all  were  allowed  to  bite  him  be- 
tween August  29  and  September  12.  On  September  14  he  had  a  rise  of 
temperature,  with  headache  and  slight  chilliness,  but  no  organisms  were 
found  in  his  blood.  A  febrile  paroxysm  occurred  daily  thereafter,  but  the 
parasites  did  not  appear  in  the  blood  until  September  17,  when  large  num- 
bers of  typical  tertian  parasites  were  found.  They  soon  disappeared  under 
the  influence  of  quinine. 

Quoted  from  an  editorial  in  the  New  York  Medical  Journal  of  October 
20,  1900. 

We  have  still  to  consider  the  question  of  the  transmission  of 


430  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

malarial  fevers  by  the  ingestion  of  water  from  malarious  local- 
ities. jSTumerous  medical  authors  have  recorded  facts  which  they 
deemed  convincing  as  showing  that  malarial  fevers  may  be  con- 
tracted in  this  way.  I  have  long  been  of  the  opinion  that  while 
the  observed  facts  ma}-,  for  the  most  part,  be  authentic,  the 
inference  is  based  upon  a  mistake  in  diagnosis;  that,  in  truth, 
the  fevers  which  can  justly  be  ascribed  to  the  ingestion  of  a 
contaminated  water  supply  are  not  true  malarial  fevers  —  i.  e., 
they  are  not  due  to  the  presence  of  the  malarial  parasite  in  the 
blood.  This  view  was  sustained  by  me  in  my  work  on  "  Malaria 
and  Malarial  Diseases,"  published  in  1883.  The  fevers  sup- 
posed to  have  been  contracted  in  this  way  are,  as  a  rule,  con- 
tinued or  remittent  in  character,  and  they  are  known  under  a 
variety  of  names.  Thus  we  have  "  Eoman  f ever,'^  ^^  Naples 
fever,''  "  remittent  fever,"  "  mountain  fever,"  "typho-malarial 
fever,"  etc.  The  leading  physicians  and  pathologists,  in  regions 
where  these  fevers  prevail,  are  now  convinced  that  they  are  not 
malarial  fevers,  but  are  simply  more  or  less  typical  varieties  of 
typhoid  fever  —  a  disease  due  to  a  specific  bacillus  and  which  is 
commonly  contracted  as  a  result  of  the  ingestion  of  contaminated 
water  or  food.  The  error  in  diagnosis,  upon  which  the  inference 
has  been  based  that  malarial  fevers  may  be  contracted  through 
drinking  water,  has  been  widespread,  in  this  country,  in  Europe 
and  the  British  possessions  in  India.  It  vitiated  our  medical 
statistics  of  the  Civil  War  and  of  the  recent  war  with  Spain. 
In  my  work  already  referred  to  I  say : 

Probably  one  of  the  most  common  mistakes  in  diagnosis,  made  in  all 
parts  of  the  world  where  malarial  and  enteric  fevers  are  endemic,  is  that 
of  calling  an  attack  of  fever  belonging  to  the  last-mentioned  category  ma- 
larial remittent.  This  arises  from  the  difficulties  attending  a  differential 
diagnosis  at  the  outset,  and  from  the  fact  that  having  once  made  a  diag- 
nosis of  malarial  fever  the  physician,  even  if  convinced  later  that  a  mis- 
take has  been  made,  does  not  always  feel  willing  to  confess  it.  The  case, 
therefore,  appears  in  the  mortality  returns  if  it  prove  fatal,  or  in  the  sta- 
tistical reports  of  disease  if  made  by  an  army  or  navy  surgeon,  as  at  first 
diagnosed. 

I  have  already  mentioned  the  fact  that  Marchiafava  denies 
that  malarial  fevers  prevail  in  the  city  of  Eome,  yet  everyone 
knows  how  frequently  travelers  contract  the  so-called'  ^^  Eoman 
fever  "  as  a  result  of  a  temporary  residence  in  that  city.    In  our 


MALARIA   AND   MOSQUITOES  431 

own  cities  numerous  cases  of  so-called  "  remittent "  or  "  typho- 
malarial  "^  fevers  are  reported  in  localities  where  typical  malarial 
fevers  (intermittents)  are  unknown,  and  at  seasons  of  the  year 
when  these  fevers  do  not  prevail  even  in  the  marshy  regions 
where  they  are  of  annual  occurrence,  during  the  mosquito  sea- 
son. Malarial  fevers  may,  of  course,  occur  in  cities  as  a  result 
of  exposure  elsev/here  to  the  bites  of  infected  mosquitoes  of  the 
genus  Anopheles,  either  as  primary  attacks  or  as  a  relapse,  or  in 
urban  localities  in  the  vicinity  of  marshy  places  or  pools  of 
water  suitable  as  breeding  places  for  Anopheles.  But  when  a 
previously  healthy  individual,  living  in  a  well-paved  city,  in  a 
locality  remote  from  all  swampy  places  is  taken  sick  with  a 
"remittent  fever,''  and  especially  when  the  attack  occurs  dur- 
ing the  winter  months,  it  is  pretty  safe  to  say  that  he  is  not 
suffering  from  malarial  infection,  and  the  chances  are  greatly 
in  favor  of  the  view  that  he  has  typhoid  fever.  It  must  be 
remembered  that  remittent  or  intermittent  course  is  not  pecul- 
iar to  malarial  fevers.  Typhoid  commonly  presents  a  more  or 
less  remittent  character,  especially  at  the  outset  of  an  attack; 
the  hectic  fever  of  tuberculosis  is  intermittent  in  character.  The 
formation  of  an  abscess,  an  attack  of  tonsilitis,  etc.,  are  usually 
attended  by  chills  and  fever,  which  may  recur  at  more  or  less 
regular  intervals.  Indeed,  in  certain  cases  of  p3^8emia  the  fe- 
brile phenomena  are  so  similar  to  those  of  a  malarial  attack  that 
a  mistake  in  diagnosis  is  no  unusual  occurrence.  Finally,  I  may 
say  that  it  is  the  fashion  with  many  persons  and  with  some 
physicians  to  ascribe  a  variety  of  s}Tiiptoms,  due  to  various 
causes,  to  "  malaria  "  and  to  prescribe  quinine  as  a  general  pan- 
acea. Thus  a  gentleman  who  has  been  at  the  club  until  1  or  2 
o'clock  at  night  and  has  smoked  half  a  dozen  cigars  —  not  to 
mention  beer  and  cheese  sandwiches  as  possible  factors  —  reports 
to  his  doctor  the  next  morning  with  a  dull  headache,  a  furred 
tongue,  and  a  loss  of  appetite  which  he  is  unable  to  account  for 
except  upon  the  supposition  that  he  has  "  malaria.''  Again  the 
spnptoms  arising  from  indigestion,  from  crowd  poisoning,  from 
sewer-gas  poisoning,  from  ptomaine  poisoning  (auto-infection), 
etc.,  are  often  ascribed  to  "  malaria,"  and  quinine  is  prescribed, 
frequently  with  more  or  less  benefit,  for  the  usefulness  of  this 
drug  is  not  limited  to  its  specific  action  in  the  destruction  of  the 
malarial  parasite. 


432  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

As  stated  at  the  outset,  it  is  evident,  in  the  present  state  of  our 
knowledge,  that  the  term  "  malaria  '^  is  a  misnomer,  either  as 
applied  to  the  cause  of  the  periodic  fevers  or  as  used  to  designate 
this  class  of  fevers.  It  would  be  more  logical  to  use  the  name 
Plasmodium  fever  and  to  speak  of  a  plasmodium  intermittent  or 
remittent,  rather  than  of  a  malarial  intermittent.  But  it  will, 
no  doubt,  be  difficult  to  displace  a  term  which  has  been  so  long 
in  use,  which  up  to  the  present  time  has  had  the  sanction  of  the 
medical  profession,  and  which  expresses  the  popular  idea  as  to 
the  origin  of  that  class  of  fevers  which  we  now  know  to  be  due 
to  a  blood  parasite,  introduced  through  the  agency  of  mosquitoes 
of  the  genus  Anopheles. 


FIGHTING   PESTS    WITH   INSECT   ALLIES  433 


FIGHTING  PESTS  WITH  INSECT  ALLIES.* 

By  LELAND  O.  HOWARD. 

SOME  twenty-five  years  ago  there  appeared  suddenly  upon 
certain  acacia  trees  at  Menlo  Park,  California,  a  very  de- 
structive scale  bug.  It  rapidly  increased  and  spread  from 
tree  to  tree,  attacking  apples,  figs,  pomegranates,  quinces,  and 
roses,  aud  many  other  trees  and  plants,  but  seeming  to  prefer 
to  all  other  food  the  beautiful  orange  and  lemon  trees  which 
grow  so  luxuriantly  on  the  Pacific  Coast,  and  from  which  a  large 
share  of  the  income  of  so  many  fruit-growers  is  gained.  This 
insect,  which  came  to  be  known  as  the  white  scale  or  fluted  scale 
or  the  I  eery  a  (from  its  scientific  name),  was  an  insignificant 
creature  in  itself,  resembling  a  small  bit  of  fiuted  white  wax  a 
little  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  inch  long.  But  when  the  scales 
had  once  taken  possession  of  a  tree,  they  swarmed  over  it  until 
the  bark  was  hidden,  they  sucked  its  sap  through  their  minute 
beaks  until  the  plant  became  so  feeble  that  the  leaves  and  young 
fruit  dropped  off,  a  hideous  black  smut-fungus  crept  over  the 
young  twigs,  and  the  weakened  tree  gradually  died. 
•  In  this  way  orchard  after  orchard  of  oranges,  worth  a  thou- 
sand dollars  or  more  an  acre,  was  utterly  destroyed,  the  best 
fruit-growing  sections  of  the  State  were  invaded,  and  ruin  stared 
many  a  fruit-grower  in  the  face.  This  spread  of  the  pest  was 
gradual,  extending  through  a  series  of  years,  and  not  until  1886 
did  it  become  so  serious  a  matter  as  to  attract  national  attention. 
In  this  year  an  investigation  was  begun  by  the  late  Professor 
C.  V.  Eiley,  the  government  entomologist  then  connected  with 

*  It  has  been  very  customary  to  poke  fun  at  some  of  the  more  detailed 
labors  of  our  Department  of  Agriculture,  and  to  question  scornfully  what 
use  the  mass  of  data  collected  could  be  to  the  practical  farmer.  The  few 
in'^tances  here  given  of  the  Department's  work  (showing  how  the  Govern- 
ment scientists  have  repeatedly  saved  the  fruit-growers  from  utter  ruin  and 
have  made  it  possible  to  build  up  great  agricultural  industries)  form  an 
apt  answer  to  such  short-sighted  criticisms. 
28 


434  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

the  Department  of  Agriculture  at  Washington.  He  sent  two 
agents  to  California,  both  of  whom  immediately  began  to  study 
the  problem  of  remedies.  In  1887  he  visited  California  himself, 
and  during  that  year  published  an  elaborate  report  giving  the  re- 
sults of  the  work  up  to  that  point.  The  complete  life-history 
of  the  insect  had  been  worked  out,  and  a  number  of  washes  had 
been  discovered  which  could  be  applied  to  the  trees  in  the  form 
of  a  spray,  and  which  would  kill  a  large  proportion  of  the  pests 
at  a  comparatively  small  expense.  But  it  was  soon  found  that 
the  average  fruit-grower  would  not  take  the  trouble  to  spray 
his  trees,  largely  from  the  fact  that  he  had  experimented  for 
some  years  with  inferior  washes  and  quack  nostrums,  and  from 
lack  of  success  had  become  disgusted  with  the  whole  idea  of 
using  liquid  compounds.  Something  easier,  something  more 
radical  was  necessary  in  his  disheartened  condition. 

Meantime,  after  much  sifting  of  evidence  and  much  corres- 
pondence with  naturalists  in  many  parts  of  the  world,  Professor 
Eiley  had  decided  that  the  white  scale  was  a  native  of  Australia, 
and  had  been  first  brought  over  to  California  accidentally  upon 
Australian  plants.  In  the  same  way  it  was  found  to  have 
reached  South  Africa  and  I^ew  Zealand,  in  both  of  which  colon- 
ies it  had  greatly  increased,  and  had  become  just  such  a  pest  as 
it  is  in  California.  In  Australia,  however,  its  native  home,  it  did 
not  seem  to  be  abundant,  and  was  not  known  as  a  pest  —  a  some- 
what surprising  state  of  affairs,  which  put  the  entomologist  on 
the  track  of  the  results  which  proved  of  such  great  value  to 
California.  He  reasoned  that,  in  its  native  home,  with  the 
same  food  plants  upon  which  it  flourished  abroad  in  such  great 
abundance,  it  would  undoubtedly  do  the  same  damage  that  it 
does  in  South  Africa,  New  Zealand,  and  California,  if  there  were 
not  in  Australia  some  natural  enemy,  probably  some  insect  para- 
site or  predatory  beetle,  which  killed  it  off.  It  became  therefore 
important  to  send  a  trained  man  to  Australia  to  investigate  this 
promising  line. 

After  many  difficulties  in  arranging  preliminaries  relating  to 
the  payment  of  expenses  (in  which  finally  the  Department  of 
State  kindly  assisted),  one  of  Professor  Eiley's  assistants,^  a 
young  German  named  Albert  Koebele,  who  had  been  with  him 
for  a  number  of  years,  finally  sailed  for  Australia  in  August, 
1888.    Koebele  was  a  skilled  collector  and  an  admirable  man  for 


FIGHTING    PESTS    WITH    INSECT   ALLIES  435 

the  purpose.  He  at  once  found  that  Professor  Riley's  supposition 
was  correct:  there  existed  in  Australia  small  flies  which  laid 
their  eggs  in  the  white  scales,  and  these  eggs  hatched  into  grubs 
which  devoured  the  pests.  He  also  found  a  remarkable  little 
ladybird,  a  small  reddish-brown  convex  beetle,  which  breeds 
with  marvelous  rapidity  and  which,  with  voracious  appetite  and 
at  the  same  time  with  discriminating  taste,  devours  scale  after 
scale,  but  eats  fluted  scales  only  —  does  not  attack  other  insects. 
This  beneficial  creature,  now  known  as  the  Australian  ladybird, 
or  the  Vedalia,  Mr.  Koebele  at  once  began  to 
collect  in  large  numbers,  together  with  sev- 
eral other  insects  found  doing  the  same  work. 
He  packed  many  hundreds  of  living  speci- 
mens of  the  ladybird,  with  plenty  of  food, 
in  tin  boxes,  and  had  them  placed  on  ice  in 
the  ice-box  of  the  steamer  at  Sidney;  they 
were  carried  carefully  to  California,  where 
they  were  liberated  upon  orange  trees  at 
Los  Angeles.  Vedalia  or  Australian 

These  sendings  were  repeated  for  several 
months,  and  Mr.  Koebele,  on  his  return  in  April,  1889,  brought 
with  him  many  more  living  specimens  which  he  had  collected 
on  his  way  home  in  'New  Zealand,  where  the  same  Vedalia  had 
been  accidentally  introduced  a  year  or  so  before. 

The  result  more  than  Justified  the  most  sanguine  expectations. 
The  ladybirds  reached  Los  Angeles  alive,  and,  with  appetites 
sharpened  by  their  long  ocean  voyage,  immediately  fell  upon  the 
devoted  scales  and  devoured  them  one  after  another  almost  with- 
out rest.  Their  hunger  temporarily  satisfied,  they  began  to  lay 
eggs.  These  eggs  hatched  in  a  few  days  into  active  grub-like 
creatures  —  the  larvae  of  the  beetles  —  and  these  grubs  proved 
as  voracious  as  their  parents.  They  devoured  the  scales  right 
and  left,  and  in  less  than  a  month  transformed  once  more  to 
beetles. 

And  so  the  work  of  extermination  went  on.  Each  female 
beetle  laid  on  an  average  300  eggs,  and  each  of  these  eggs 
hatched  into  a  hungry  larva.  Supposing  that  one-half  of  these 
larvae  produced  female  beetles,  a  simple  calculation  will  show 
that  in  six  months  a  single  ladybird  became  the  ancestor  of 


4S6  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

75,000,000,000  of  other  ladybirds,  each  capable  of  destroying 
very  many  scale  insects. 

Is  it  any  wonder,  then,  that  the  fluted  scales  soon  began  to 
disappear?  Is  it  any  wonder  that  orchard  after  orchard  was 
entirely  freed  from  the  pest,  until  now  over  a  large  section  of  the 
State  hardly  an  Icerya  is  to  be  found  ?  And  could  a  more  strik- 
ing illustration  of  the  value  of  the  study  of  insects  possibly  be 
instanced  ?  In  less  than  a  year  from  the  time  when  the  first  of 
these  hungry  Australians  was  liberated  from  his  box  in  Los 

Angeles  the  orange  trees  were  once 
more  in  bloom  and  were  resuming 
their  old-time  verdure — the  Icerya 
had  become  practically  a  thing  of 
the  past. 

This  wonderful  success  encour- 
aged other  efforts  in  the  same 
direction.  The  State  of  Cali- 
fornia some  years  later  sent  the 
same  entomologist,  Koebele,  to' 
Australia  to  search  for  some  in- 
sect enemy'  of  the  black  scale, 
an  insect  which  threatened  the 
destruction  of  the  extensive  olive 
orchards  of  California.  He 
Larvjfi  of  Vedalia  Eating  White   found  and  successfully  introduced 

another  ladybird  beetle,  known 
as  Bhizohiiis  ventralis,  a  little  dark-colored  creature  which  has 
thrived  in  the  California  climate,  especially  near  the  seacoast, 
and  in  the  damp  air  of  those  regions  has  successfully  held  the 
black  scale  in  check.  It  was  found,  however,  that  back  from  the 
seacoast  this  insect  did  not  seem  to  thrive  with  the  same  vigor, 
and  the  black  scale  held  its  own  —  in  some  places  more  than 
held  its  own.  Then  a  spirited  controversy  sprung  up  among  the 
olive-growers,  those  near  the  seacoast  contending  that  the  Ehizo- 
bius  was  a  perfect  remedy  for  the  scale,  while  those  inland  in- 
sisted that  it  was  worthless.  A  few  years  later  it  was  discovered 
that  this  olive  enemy  in  South  Europe  is  killed  by  a  little  cater- 
pillar which  burrows  through  scale  after  scale,  eating  out  their 
contents,  and  an  effort  was  made  to  introduce  the  caterpillar  into 
California,  but  these  efforts  failed.     Within  the  past  two  years 


FIGHTING    PESTS    WITH    INSECT   ALLIES  437 

it  has  been  found  that  a  small  parasitic  fly  exists  in  South  Africa 
which  lays  its  eggs  in  this  same  black  scale,  and  its  grub-like 
larvae  eat  out  the  bodies  of  the  scales  and  destroy  them.  The  cli- 
mate of  the  region  in  which  this  parasite  exists  is  dry  through  a 
large  part  of  the  year,  and  therefore  this  little  parasitic  fly, 
known  as  Scutellista,  was  thought  to  be  the  needed  insect  for 
the  dry  California  regions.  With  the  help  of  Mr.  C.  P.  Louns- 
bury,  the  government  entomologist  of  Cape  Colony,  living  speci- 
mens of  this  fly  were  brought  to  this  country,  and  were  colonized 
in  the  Santa  Clara  Valley  near  San  Jose,  California,  where  they 
have  perpetuated  themselves  and  destroyed  many  of  the  black 
scales,  and  promise  to  be  most  successful  in  their  warfare  against 
the  injurious  insect. 

This  same  Scutellista  parasite  had,  curiously  enough,  been 
previously  introduced  in  an  accidental  manner  into  Italy,  prob- 
ably from  India,  and  probably  in  scale-insects  living  on  orna- 
mental plants  brought  from  India.  But  in  Italy,  it  lives  com- 
monly in  another  scale  insect,  and  with  the  assistance  of  the 
learned  Italian,  Professor  Antonio  Berlese,  the  writer  made  an 
unsuccessful  attempt  to  introduce  and  establish  it  a  year  earlier 
in  some  of  our  Southern  States,  where  it  was  hoped  it  would 
destroy  certain  injurious  insects  known  as  "wax  scales." 

In  the  meantime,  the  United  States,  not  content  with  keeping 
all  the  good  things  to  herself,  has  spread  the  first  lad3^bird  im- 
ported —  the  Vedalia  —  to  other  countries.  Four  years  ago  the 
white  scale  was  present  in  enormous  numbers  in  orange  groves  on 
the  left  bank  of  the  river  Tagus,  in  Portugal,  and  threatened  to 
wipe  out  the  orange-growing  industry  in  that  country.  The  Cal- 
ifornia people,  in  pursuance  of  a  far-sighted  policy,  had  with 
great  difficulty,  owing  to  lack  of  food,  kept  alive  some  colonies 
of  the  beneficial  beetle,  and  specimens  were  sent  to  Portugal 
which  reached  there  alive  and  flourishing.  They  were  tended 
for  a  short  time,  and  then  liberated  in  the  orange  groves,  with 
precisely  the  same  result  as  in  California.  In  a  few  months  the 
scale  insects  were  almost  entirely  destroyed,  and  the  Portuguese 
orange-growers  saved  from  enormous  loss. 

This  good  result  in  Portugal  was  not  accomplished  without 
opposition.  It  was  tried  experimentally  at  the  advice  of  the 
writer,  and  in  the  face  of  great  incredulity  on  the  part  of  cer- 
tain Portuguese  newspapers  and  of  some  officials.     By  many 


438  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

prominent  persons  the  account  published  of  the  work  of  the  in- 
sect in  the  United  States  was  considered  as  untrustworthy,  and 
simply  another  instance  of  American  reclame  (brag).  But  the 
opposition  was  overruled,  and  the  triumphant  result  silenced  all 
opposition.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  the  general  opinion  among 
Portuguese  orange-growers  to-day  is  very  favorable  to  American 
enterprise  and  practical  scientific  acumen. 

The  Vedalia  was  earlier  sent  to  the  people  in  Alexandria  and 
Cairo,  Egypt,  where  a  similar  scale  was  damaging  the  fig  trees 
and  other  valuable  plants,  and  the  result  was  again  the  same,  the 
injurious  insects  were  destroyed.  This  was  achieved  only  after 
extensive  correspondence  and  several  failures.  The  active  agent 
in  Alexandria  was  Eear  Admiral  Blomfield,  of  the  British  Eoyal 
JSTavy,  a  man  apparently  of  wide  information,  good  judgment, 
and  great  energy. 

The  same  thing  occurred  when  the  California  people  sent  this 
savior  of  horticulture  to  South  Africa,  where  the  white  scale 
had  also  made  its  appearance. 

It  is  not  only  beneficial  insects,  however,  which  are  being  im- 
ported, but  diseases  of  injurious  insects.  In  South  Africa  the 
colonists  suffer  severely  from  swarms  of  migratory  grasshoppers 
which  fly  from  the  north  and  destroy  their  crops.  They  have 
discovered  out  there  a  fungus  disease  which  under  favorable 
conditions  kills  off  the  grasshoppers  in  enormous  numbers.  At 
the  Bacteriological  Institute  in  Grahamstown,  Natal,  they  have 
cultivated  this  fungus  in  culture  tubes,  and  have  carried  it  suc- 
cessfully throughout  the  whole  year ;  and  they  have  used  it  prac- 
tically by  distributing  these  culture  tubes  wherever  swarms  of 
grasshoppers  settle  and  lay  their  eggs.  The  disease,  once  started 
in  an  army  of  young  grasshoppers,  soon  reduces  them  to  harmless 
numbers.  The  United  States  Government  last  year  secured  cul- 
ture tubes  of  this  disease,  and  experiments  carried  on  in  Colo- 
rado and  in  Mississippi  show  that  the  vitality  of  the  fungus  had 
not  been  destroyed  by  its  long  ocean  voyage,  and  many  grass- 
hoppers were  killed  by  its  spread.  During  the  past  winter  other 
cultures  were  brought  over  from  Cape  Colony,  and  the  fungus  is 
being  propagated  in  the  Department  of  Agriculture  for  distribu- 
tion during  the  coming  summer  in  parts  of  the  country  where 
grasshoppers  may  prove  to  be  destructively  abundant. 

Although   we   practically  no   longer  have  those  tremendous 


FIGHTING    PESTS    WITH    INSECT   ALLIES  439 

swarms  of  migratory  grasshoppers  which  used  to  come  dow^n  like 
devastating  armies  in  certain  of  our  Western  States  and  in  a 
night  devour  everything  green  (even  the  Irish  servant-girls,  as 
those  who  joke  over  serious  matters  used  to  say),  still,  almost 
every  year,  and  especially  in  the  West  and  South,  there  is  some- 
where a  multiplication  of  grasshoppers  to  a  very  injurious  de- 
gree, and  it  is  hoped  that  the  introduced  fungus  can  be  used  in 
such  cases. 

Persons  officially  engaged  in  searching  for  remedies  for  in- 
jurious insects  all  over  the  world  have  banded  themselves  to- 
gether in  a  society  known  as  the  Association  of  Economic  Ento- 
mologists. They  are  constantly  interchanging  ideas  regarding 
the  destruction  of  insects,  and  at  present  active  m-ovements  are 
on  foot  in  this  direction  of  interchanging  beneficial  insects.  En- 
tomologists in  Europe  will  try  the  coming  summer  to  send  to 
the  United  States  living  specimens  of  a  tree-inhabiting  beetle 
which  eats  the  caterpillar  of  the  gipsy  moth,  and  which  will  un- 
doubtedly also  eat  the  caterpillar  so  common  upon  the  shade- 
trees  of  our  principal  Eastern  cities,  which  is  known  as  the  Tus- 
sock moth  caterpillar.  An  entomologist  from  the  United  States, 
Mr.  C.  L.  Marlatt,  has  started  for  Japan,  China,  and  Java,  for 
the  purpose  of  trying  to  find  the  original  home  of  the  famous 
San  Jose  scale  —  an  insect  which  has  been  doing  enormous 
damage  in  the  apple,  pear,  peach,  and  plum  orchards  of  the 
United  States  —  and  if  he  finds  the  original  home  of  this  scale, 
it  is  hoped  that  some  natural  enemy  or  parasite  will  be  discov- 
ered which  can  be  introduced  into  the  United  States  to  the  ad- 
vantage of  our  fruit-growers.  Professor  Berlese,  of  Italy,  and 
Dr.  Reh,  of  Germany,  will  attempt  the  introduction  into  Europe 
of  some  of  the  parasites  of  injurious  insects  which  occur  in  the 
United  States,  and  particularly  those  of  the  woolly  root-louse  of 
the  apple,  known  in  Europe  as  the  "  American  blight " —  one  of 
the  few  injurious  insects  which  probably  went  to  Europe  from 
this  country,  and  which  in  the  United  States  is  not  so  injurious 
as  it  is  in  Europe. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  by  the  way,  that  while  we  have  had  most 
of  our  very  injurious  insects  from  Europe,  American  insects, 
when  accidentally  introduced  into  Europe,  do  not  seem  to 
thrive.  The  insect  just  mentionecl,  and  the  famous  grapevine 
Phylloxera,  a  creature  w^hich  caused  France  a  greater  economic 


440 


MODERN  INVENTIONS 


loss  than  the  enormous  indemnity  which  she  had  to  pay  Ger- 
many after  the  Franco-Prussian  War,  are  practically  the  only 
American  insects  with  which  we  have  been  able  to  repay  Europe 
for  the  insects  which  she  has  sent  us.  Climatic  differences  no 
doubt  account  for  this  strange  fact,  and  our  longer  and  warmer 
summers  are  the  principal  factor. 

It  is  not  alone  the  parasitic  and  predaceous  insects  which  are 
beneficial.     A  new  industry  has  been  brought  into  the  United 


Grasshopper  Dying  From  Fungus  Disease. 

States  during  the  past  two  years  by  the  introduction  and  accli- 
matization of  the  little  insect  which  fertilizes  the  Smyrna  fig  in 
Mediterranean  countries.  The  dried-fig  industry  in  this  coun- 
try has  never  amounted  to  anything.  The  Smyrna  fig  has  con- 
trolled the  dried-fig  markets  of  the  world,  but  in  California  the 
Smyrna  fig  has  never  held  its  fruit,  the  young  figs  dropping  from 
the  trees  without  ripening.    It  was  found  that  in  Mediterranean 


FIGHTING    PESTS    WITH    INSECT   ALLIES  .441 

regions  a  little  insect  known  as  the  Blastophaga  fertilizes  the 
flowers  of  the  Smyrna  fig  with  pollen  from  the  wild  fig  which  it 
inhabits.  The  United  States  Department  of  Agriculture  in  the 
spring  of  1899  imported  successfully  some  of  these  insects 
through  one  of  its  traveling  agents,  Mr.  W.  T.  Swingle,  and  the 
insect  was  successfully  established  at  Fresno  in  the  San  Joaquin 
Valley.  A  far-sighted  fruit-grower,  Mr.  George  C.  Roeding, 
of  Fresno,  had  planted  some  years  previously  an  orchard  of 
5,000  Smyrna  fig  trees  and  wild  fig  trees,  and  his  place  was  the 
one  chosen  for  the  successful  experiment.  The  little  insect 
multiplied  with  astonishing  rapidity,  was  carried  successfully 


The  Imported  Fig-Fertilizing  Insect. 

through  the  winter  of  1899-1900,  and  in  the  summer  of  1900  was 
present  in  such  great  numbers  that  it  fertilized  thousands  of 
figs,  and  fifteen  tons  of  them  ripened.  When  these  figs  were 
dried  and  packed  it  was  discovered  that  they  were  superior  to  the 
best  imported  figs.  They  contained  more  sugar  and  were  of  a 
finer  flavor  than  those  brought  from  Smyrna  and  Algeria.  The 
Blastophaga  has  come  to  stay,  and  the  prospects  for  a  new  and 
important  industry  are  assured. 

With  all  of  these  experiments  the  criticism  is  constantly  made 
that  unwittingly  new  and  serious  enemies  to  agriculture  may  be 
introduced.  The  unfortunate  introduction  of  the  English  spar- 
row into  this  country  is  mentioned,  and  the  equally  unfortunate 
introduction  of  the  East  Indian  mongoose  into  the  West  Indies 
as  well.  The  fear  is  expressed  that  the  beneficial  parasitic  in- 
sects, after  they  have  destroyed  the  injurious  insects,  will  either 


442  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

themselves  attack  valuable  crops  or  do  something  else  of  an 
equally  harmful  nature.  But  there  is  no  reason  for  such  alarm. 
The  English  sparrow  feeds  on  all  sorts  of  things,  and  the  East 
Indian  mongoose,  while  it  was  introduced  into  Jamaica  to  kill 
snakes,  was  found,  too  late,  to  be  also  a  very  general  feeder.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  after  the  snakes  were  destroyed,  and  even  be- 
fore, it  attacked  young  pigs,  kids,  lambs,  calves,  puppies,  and 
kittens,  and  also  destroyed  bananas,  pine-apples,  corn,  sweet 
potatoes,  cocoanuts,  peas,  sugar  corn,  meat,  and  salt  provisions 
and  fish.  But  with  the  parasitic  and  predatory  insects  the  food 
habits  are  definite  and  fixed.  They  can  live  on  nothing  but  their 
natural  food,  and  in  its  absence  they  die.  The  Australian  lady- 
bird originally  imported,  for  example,  will  feed  upon  nothing 
but  scale  insects  of  a  particular  genus,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
as  soon  as  the  fluted  scales  became  scarce  the  California  of- 
ficials had  the  greatest  difficulty,  in  keeping  the  little  beetles 
alive,  and  were  actually  obliged  to  cultivate  for  food  the  very 
insects  which  they  were  formerly  so  anxious  to  wipe  out  of  ex- 
istence! With  the  Scutellista  parasite  the  same  fact  holds. 
The  fly  itself  does  not  feed,  and  its  young  feed  only  upon  certain 
scale  insects,  and  so  with  all  the  rest. 

All  of  these  experiments  are  being  carried  on  by  men  learned 
in  the  ways  of  insects,  and  only  beneficial  results,  or  at  the  very 
least  negative  ones,  can  follow.  And  even  where  only  one  such 
experiment  out  a  hundred  is  successful,  what  a  saving  it  will 
mean ! 

We  do  not  expect  the  time  to  come  when  the  farmer,  finding 
Hessian  fly  in  his  wheat,  will  have  only  to  telegraph  the  nearest 
experiment  station,  "  Send  at  once  two  dozen  first-class  para- 
sites " ;  but  in  many  cases,  and  with  a  number  of  different  kinds 
.of  injurious  insects,  especially  those  introduced  from  foreign 
countries,  it  is  probable  that  we  can  gain  much  relief  by  the 
introduction  of  their  natural  enemies  from  their  original  home. 


GREATEST   DISCOVERY    OF   THE    AGE  443 


GREATEST  DISCOVERY  OF  THE  AGE. 

By  ROBERT  ROUTLEDGE. 

THE  ind-algent  reader  who  may  have  followed  the  course  of 
the  foregoing  pages,  will  perhaps  peruse  the  title  of  this 
article  with  some  little  bewilderment.  His  attention  has 
been  drawn  to  one  after  another  of  a  series  of  remarkable  and 
important  discoveries,  and  he  will  naturally  wonder  what  can 
be  the  discovery  which  is  greater  than  any  of  these.  Now,  a  dis- 
covery is  great  in  proportion  to  the  extent  and  importance  of 
the  results  that  flow  from  it.  These  results  may  be  immediate 
and  practical,  as  in  the  case  of  vaccination;  or  they  may  be 
scientific  and  intellectual,  as  in  Newton's  discovery  of  the  iden- 
tity of  the  force  which  draws  a  stone  to  the  ground  with  that 
which  holds  the  planets  in  their  orbits.  Such  discoveries  as  most 
enlarge  our  knowledge  of  the  world  in  which  we  live,  by  em- 
bracing in  simple  laws  a  vast  field  of  phenomena,  are  precisely, 
those  which  are  most  prolific  in  useful  applications.  If  we 
admit,  as  we  must,  the  truth  of  Bacon's  aphorism,  which  de- 
clares that  "  Man,  as  the  minister  and  interpreter  of  nature,  is 
limited  in  act  and  understanding  by  his  observation  of  the  order 
of  nature;  neither  his  understanding  nor  his  power  extends 
farther,"  then  it  would  be  easy  to  show  that  the  discovery  of 
which  we  have  to  treat,  more  than  any  other,  must  be  of  im- 
mense practical  service  to  mankind  in  every  one  of  the  ways  in 
which  a  knowledge  of  the  order  of  nature  can  be  of  use,  viz. : — 
"  First,  In  showing  us  how  to  avoid  attempting  impossibilities. 
Second,  In  securing  us  from  important  mistakes  in  attempting 
what  is,  in  itself,  possible,  by  means  either  inadequate  or  actual- 
ly opposed  to  the  end  in  view.  Third,  In  enabling  us  to  accom- 
plish our  ends  in  the  easiest,  shortest,  most  economical,  and  most 
effectual  manner.     Fourth,  In  inducing  us  to  attempt,  and  en- 


444  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

abling  us  to  accomplish,  objects  which,  'but  for  such  knowledge, 
we  should  never  have  thought  of  undertaking." 

A  great  principle,  like  that  which  we  are  about  to  explain  to 
the  reader,  is  too  vast  in  its  bearings  for  its  discovery  and  elabor- 
ation to  have  been  the  work  of  an  individual.  This  truth,  and. 
indeed  the  whole  of  our  knowledge,  is  but  the  result  of  the 
development  and  growth  of  pre-existing  knowledge.  In  fact, 
every  discovery,  however  brilliant  —  every  invention,  however 
ingenious,  is  but  the  expansion  or  improvement  of  an  antecedent 
discovery  or  invention.  .In  strictness,  therefore,  it  is  impossible 
to  say  where  the  iirst  germ  of  even  our  newest  notions  may  be 
found.  Our  latest  philosophy  can  be  shown  to  be  the  result  of 
progressive  modifications  of  ideas  of  remote  ages.  Hence  every 
great  truth,  every  grand  invention,  has  in  reality  been  the  off- 
spring of  many  minds;  but  we  record  as  tlie  discoverers  and  in- 
ventors those  men  who  have  made  the  longest  strides  in  the  path 
of  progress,  and  whose  genius  and  labors  have  overcome  obstacles 
defying  ordinary  efforts. 

The  extent  of  the  field  which  is  covered  by  the  principle  we 
have  in  view  is  so  vast  —  embracing,  as  it  does,  the  whole  phe- 
nomena of  the  universe  —  that  it  will  not  be  possible  to  do  more 
within  our  limits  than  give  the  reader  a  general  notion  of  the 
principle  itself.  It  may  be  useful  to  instance  a  truth  which  has 
a  similar  generality  and  significance,  and  which  has  also  acquired 
the  force  of  an  axiom,  because  it  is  verified  every  hour.  It  is 
that  greatest  generalization  of  chemistry,  affirming  that  in  all  its 
transformations  matter  is  indestructible^  and  can  no  more  be  de- 
stroyed than  it  can  be  called  into  being  at  will.  This  truth  is  so 
well  established,  that  some  philosophers  have  asserted  than  an 
opposite  state  of  things  is  inconceivable.  But  it  was  not  always 
known ;  and  there  are  at  the  present  day  untutored  minds  which 
not  only  believe  that  a  substance  destroyed  by  fire  is  utterly 
annihilated,  but  what  they  find  inconceivable  is  the  continued 
existence  of  the  substance  in  an  invisible  form.  The  candle 
burns  away,  its  matter  vanishes  from  our  view ;  but  if  we  collect 
the  invisible  products  of  the  combustion,  we  find  in  them  the 
whole  substance  of  the  candle  in  union  with  the  atmospheric 
oxygen.  We  may,  in  imagination,  follow  the  indestructible 
atoms  of  carbon  in  their  migrations,  from  the  atmosphere  to 
the  plant,  which  is  eaten  by  the  animal  and  goes  to  form  its  fat, 


GREATEST    DISCOVERY    OF   THE    AGE  445 

and  from  the  tallow^  by  combustion,  back  into  the  atmosphere 
again.  The  notion  of  the  real  identity  of  matter  under  chang- 
ing forms  has  been  expressed  by  our  great  dramatist  in  a  well- 
known  passage,  which  is  remarkable  for  its  philosophic  insight, 
when  we  consider  the  age  in  which  it  was  written : 

Hamlet.  To  what  base  uses  we  may  return,  Horatio !  Why  may 
not  imagination  trace  the  noble  dust  of  Alexander,  till  he  find  it  stopping 
a  bung-hole? 

Horatio.     'Twere  to  consider  too  curiously  to  consider  so. 

Hamlet.  No,  faith,  not  a  jot ;  but  to  follow  him  ihither  with  modesty 
enough,  and  likelihood  to  lead  it.  As  thus :  Alexander  died,  Alexander  was 
buried,  Alexander  returneth  to  dust ;  the  dust  is  earth ;  of  earth  we  make 
loam ;  and  why  of  that  loam,  whereto  he  was  converted,  might  they  not 
stop  a  beer-barrel? 

Imperial  Csesar,  dead,  and  turned  to  clay, 
Might  stop  a  hole  to  keep  the  wind  away ; 
O,  that  the  earth,  which  kept  the  world  in  awe, 
Should  patch  a  wall  to  expel  the  winter's  flaw ! 

Now  the  greatest  discovery  of  our  age  is  that  force,  like  mat- 
ter, is  indestructible,  and  that  it  can  no  more  be  created  than 
can  matter.  The  reader  may  perhaps  think  the  statement  that 
we  cannot  create  force  is  in  contradiction  to  experience.  He 
will  be  disposed  to  ask.  What  is  the  steam  engine  for  but  to 
create  force  ?  Do  we  not  gain  force  by  the  pulley,  the  lever,  the 
hydraulic  press  ?  And  are  not  tremendous  forces  produced  when 
we  explode  gunpowder  or  nitro-glycerine  ?  When  the  principle 
with  which  we  are  here  concerned  has  been  developed  and  stated 
in  accurate  terms,  it  is  hoped  the  reader  will  see  the  real  nature 
of  these  contrivances.  We  are,  however,  aware  that  it  is  quite 
impossible  within  the  limits  of  a  short  article  to  do  much  more 
than  indicate  a  region  of  discovery  abounding  with  results  which 
may  be  yet  unfamiliar  to  some.  We  may  continue  our  task  of 
merely  illustrating  the  general  nature  of  this,  in  reality  the 
most  important,  subject  which  we  have  had  occasion  to  bring  un- 
der the  reader's  notice. 

Perhaps  the  first  step  should  be  to  point  out  the  fact  of  the 
various  forces  of  nature  —  mechanical  action,  heat,  light,  elec- 
tricity, magnetism,  chemical  action  —  being  so  related  that  any 
one  can  be  made  to  produce  all  the  rest  directly  or  indirectly. 
Some  examples  of  the  conversion  of  one  form  of  force  into  an- 


446  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

other  occur  in  the  foregoing  pages.  We  have,  indeed,  sufficient 
examples  to  arrange  a  series  of  these  conversions  of  forces  in  a 
circle.  Thus,  chemical  action  (oxidation  in  the  animal  system) 
supplies  muscular  power,  this  sets  in  motion  a  Gramme  machine, 
the  motion  is  converted  into  electricit}',  the  electricity  produces 
the  electric  light,  and  light  causes  chemical  action,  and  with  this 
the  cycle  is  complete.  In  the  steam  engine  heat  is  converted 
into  mechanical  force,  and  many  cases  will  present  themselves 
to  the  reader's  mind  in  which  mechanical  actions  give  rise  to 
heat.  The  doctrine  of  a  mutual  dependence  and  convertibility 
among  all  the  forms  of  force  was  first  definitively  taught  in 
England  by  Justice  Grove,  in  1842;  and  almost  simultaneously 
Dr.  Meyer  promulgated  similar  views  in  Germany. 

But  this  teaching  included  much  more  than  a  mere  connec- 
tion between  the  various  forces,  for  it  extended  to  quantitative 
relations.  It  declared  that  a  given  amount  of  one  force  always 
produced  a  definite  amount  of  another ;  that  a  certain  quantity  of 
heat,  for  example,  would  give  rise  to  a  certain  amount  of  me- 
chanical action,  and  that  this  amount  of  mechanical  action  was 
the  equivalent  of  the  heat  which  produced  it,  and  would  in  its 
turn  reproduce  all  that  heat.  These  last  doctrines,  however, 
rested  on  a  speculative  basis,  until  Mr.  James  Prescott  Joule, 
of  Manchester,  carried  out  a  most  patient,  laborious,  and  elabor- 
ate experimental  investigation  of  the  subject.  His  labors  placed 
the  truth  of  the  numerical  equivalence  of  forces  on  a  founda- 
tion which  cannot  be  shaken ;  and  he  accomplished  for  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  indestructibility  of  force  what  Lavoisier  did  for  that 
of  the  indestructibility  of  matter  —  he  established  it  on  the  in- 
controvertible basis  of  accurate  and  conclusive  experiment.  His 
determination  of  the  value  of  the  mechanical  equivalent  of  heat 
especially  is  a  model  of  experimental  research;  and  subsequent 
investigators  have,  by  diversified  methods,  confirmed  the  ac- 
curacy of  his  results.  A  great  part  of  his  work  consisted  in 
finding  what  quantity  of  heat  would  be  produced  by  a  given 
quantity  of  worTc. 

Before  we  proceed  to  give  an  indication  of  one  of  Dr.  Joule's 
methods  of  making  this  determination,  we  may  point  out  that 
if  a  weight  be  raised  a  certain  height,  the  work  which  is  done 
in  raising  it  will  be  given  out  by  the  weight  in  its  descent.  If 
you  carry  a  one  pound  weight  to  the  top  of  a  building  100  feet 


GREATEST   DISCOVERY    OF   THE    AGE  447 

high,  you  perform  100  units  of  work.  When  the  weight  is  at  the 
top,  the  work  is  not  lost;  for  let  the  weight  be  attached  to  a 
cord  passing  over  a  pulley,  and  it  will,  as  it  descends,  draw  up  to 
the  top  another  one-pound  weight.*  If  you  drop  the  weight  so 
that  it  falls  freel}^,  it  descends  with  a  continually  increasing 
velocity,  strikes  the  pavement,  and  comes  to  rest.  Still  your 
work  is  not  lost.  The  collision  of  the  weight  and  the  pavement 
develops  heat.  The  increase  of  temperature  might  not  be  sen- 
sible to  the  touch,  but  could  be  recognized  by  delicate  instru- 
ments. Your  work,  then,  has  now  changed  into  the  form  of 
heat  —  the  weight  and  the  pavement  are  hotter  than  before. 
This  heat  is  carried  off  by  contiguous  substances.  But  still  your 
work  is  not  lost,  for  it  has  made  the  earth  warmer.  The  heat, 
however,  soon  flows  away  by  radiation  from  the  earth,  and  is 
diffused  into  space.  The  final  result  of  your  work  is,  then, 
that  a  certain  measurable  quantity  of  heat  has  been  sent  off  into 
space.     Is  your  work  now  finally  lost  ?     Not  so :  in  reality,  it  is 

*  The  statement  here  should  have  been  more  explicit,  as  it  has  reference 
to  a  state  of  things  not  to  be  realized  in  practice.  Like  the  well-known 
'*  first  law  of  motion,"  it  can  neither  be  demonstrated  d  priori,  nor  proved 
by  any  direct  and  simple  experiment.  The  first  law  of  motion  asserts 
that  a  body  in  motion,  not  acted  on  by  any  external  force,  will  continue 
to  move  in  a  straight  line,  and  with  a  uniform  velocity.  I\ow  we  cannot 
place  a  body  in  such  a  position  that  it  will  not  be  acted  upon  by  some  ex- 
ternal forces ;  but  the  more  we  lessen  the  effect  of  external  forces,  the 
more  nearly  is  the  motion  straight  and  uniform.  Similarly  in  the  case 
supposed,  the  intention  is  to  show  that  the  weight  carried  up  is  in  a 
position  to  do  just  as  much  work  as  was  done  upon  it.  We  must  suppose 
several  impracticable  but  conceivable  conditions  in  order  to  eliminate  con- 
siderations which  do  not  concern  the  theoretical  question;  we  must  sup- 
pose the  cord  to  be  weightless  and  absolutely  devoid  of  rigidity ;_  the 
pulley  to  have  no  mass  or  inertia,  that  is  to  require  no  force  to  set  it  in 
motion,  and  to  move  without  any  friction ;  the  air  to  offer  no  resistance ; 
and  the  force  of  gravity  to  be  uniform  throughout  the  space.  Some  ap- 
proximation to  these  conditions  is  practicable,  as,  for  example,  the  pulley 
might  be  the  lightest  possible,  and  turn  on  friction  wheels,  the  cord  might 
be  the  finest  silk  thread,  and  so  on.  But  it  is  not  the  influence  of  these 
external  forces  we  are  considering,  but  only  the  energy  due  to  the  position 
of  the  raised  weight.  Assuming,  therefore,  the  disturbing  conditions 
absolutely  eliminated,  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  that  no  downward  force  or 
pressure,  however  small,  could  be  applied  for  ever  so  short  a  time,  to  the 
upper  weight  without  setting  the  system  in  motion.  The  motion  would 
be  an  accelerated  one  so  long  as  the  force  was  applied,  it  would  become 
uniform  when  the  force  ceased  to  act;  it  would  have  a  velocity  propor- 
tionate to  the  force.  In  any  case,  after  a  time  the  descending  weight 
would  reach  the  ground,  and  for  our  point  of  view  it  is  quite  immaterial 
whether  the  time  occupied  by  the  movement  were  5  minutes  or  5,000 
years,  for  be  it  observed,  time  does  not  enter  into  the  definition  of  toorh 
as  it  does  into  that  of  "  horse-power."  Then  by  pushing  the  conceived 
conditions  to  their  limits,  we  may  see  that  without  considering  any 
question  of  conversion  of  motion  into  heat,  the  raised  weight  can,  in  theory 
at  least,  give  back  again  the  energy  spent  upon  it. 


448  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

only  diffused  throughout  the  universe  in  the  form  of  radiant 
heat  of  low  intensity.  Yet  it  is  lost  for  ever  for  useful  purposes ; 
for  from  this  final  form  of  diffused  heat  there  is  no  known  or 
conceivable  process  by  which  heat  can  be  gathered  up  again. 

Dr.  Joule  arranged  paddles  of  brass  or  iron,  so  that  they  could 
turn  freely  in  a  circular  box  containing  water  or  quicksilver. 
From  the  sides  of  the  box  partitions  projected  inwards,  which 
contained  openings  that  permitted  the  divided  arms  of  the  pad- 
dle to  pass,  and  preventing  the  liquid  from  moving  en  masse, 
thus  caused  a  churning  action  when  the  paddle  was  turned. 
N'ow,  every  one  who  has  worked  a  rotatory  churn  knows  that  a 
considerable  resistance  is  offered  to  this  action;  but  every  one 
does  not  know  that  under  these  circumstances  the  liquid  becomes 
warmer.  It  was  Dr.  Joule's  object  to  discover  how  much  the 
temperature  of  his  liquid  was  raised  by  a  measured  quantity  of 
work.  He  used  very  delicate  thermometers,  and  had  to  take  a 
number  of  precautions  which  need  not  here  be  described ;  and  he 
obtained  the  definite  quantity  of  work  by  the  descent  of  a  known 
weight  through  a  known  distance,  a  cord  attached  to  the  weight 
being  wound  on  a  drum,  which  communicated  motion  to  the 
paddle.  The  experiments  were  conducted  with  varying  circum- 
stances, to  avoid  chances  of  error,  and  were  repeated  very  many 
times  until  uniform  and  consistent  indications  were  always  ob- 
tained. The  result  of  the  experiments  showed  that  772  units  of 
work  (foot-pounds)  furnished  heat  which  would  raise  the  tem- 
perature of  one  pound  of  water  from  32°  to  33°  F.,  which  is  the 
unit  of  heat.  This  number,  772,  is  a  constant  of  the  greatest 
importance  in  scientific  and  practical  calculations,  and  is  called 
"  the  mechanical  equivalent  of  heat."  The  amount  of  work  it 
represents  is  sometimes  called  a  "Joule,''  and  is  always  repre- 
sented in  algebraical  formulae  by  "J."  Mr.  Joule's  first  paper 
appeared  in  1843,  and  soon  afterwards  various  branches  of  the 
subject  of  "  The  Equivalence  and  Persistence  of  Forces  "  were 
taken  up  by  a  number  of  able  men,  who  have  advanced  its  prin- 
ciples along  various  lines  of  inquiry.  Among  the  most  noted 
contributors  to  this  question  we  find  the  names  of  Lord  Kelvin, 
Helmholtz,  James  Thomson,  Eankin,  Clausius,  Tait,  Andrews, 
and  Maxwell. 

In  the  steam  engine  the  ease  is  the  inverse  of  that  presented 
by  the  above  named  experiment  of  Dr.  Joule's.     Here  we  have 


GREATEST    DISCOVERY    OF    THE    AGE  449 

heat  producing  work.  Now,  the  quantity  of  steam  which  enters 
the  cylinder  of  a  steam  engine  may  be  found,  and  the  tempera- 
ture of  the  steam  can  be  determined,  and  from  these  the  amount 
of  heat  which  passes  into  the  cylinder  per  minute,  say,  can  be 
calculated.  A  large  portion  of  this  heat  is,  in  an  ordinary 
engine,  yielded  up  to  the  condensing  water,  and  another  part  is 
lost  by  conduction  and  radiation  from  the  cylinder,  condenser, 
pipes,  etc.  But  both  these  quantities  can  be  estimated.  When 
the  amount  is  compared  with  that  entering  the  cylinder  in  the 
steam,  a  difference  is  always  found,  which  leaves  a  quantity  of 
heat  unaccounted  for.  When  this  quantity  is  compared  with  the 
worh  done  by  the  engine  in  the  same  interval,  it  is  always  found 
that  for  every  772  units  of  work  a  unit  of  heat  has  disappeared 
from  the  C3dinder.  The  numerical  relation  between  work  and 
heat  which  is  established  in  these  two  cases  has  been  tested  in 
many  quite  different  ways;  and,  within  the  limits  of  experi- 
mental errors,  always  witK  the  same  numerical  result.  But 
equally  definite  quantitative  relations  are  known  to  exist  among 
all  the  other  forms  of  force ;  and  the  manner  in  which  these  are 
convertible  into  each  other  has  already  been  indicated,  although 
want  of  space  prevents  full  illustration  of  this  part  of  the  sub- 
ject. It  may,  however,-  be  seen  that  each  form  of  force  can  be 
mediately  or  immediately  converted  into  mechanical  effect, 
hence  each  is  expressible  in  terms  of  work.  That  is  to  say,  we 
can  assign  to  a  unit  of  electricity,  for  example,  a  number  ex- 
pressing the  work  which  it  would  do  if  entirely  converted  into 
work ;  and  the  same  number  also  expresses  the  work  which  would 
be  required  to  produce  the  unit  of  electricity..  An  ounce  of 
hydrogen  in  combining  with  eight  ounces  of  oxygen  produces 
a  certain  measurable  quantity  of  heat.  If  that  heat,  say  =  H, 
were  all  converted  into  work,  we  now  know  that  the  work  would 
=  HJ.  Hence  we  can  express  a  definite  chemical  action  in  terms 
of  worlc.  The  same  is  generally  true  of  all  physical  forces, 
though  in  some  cases,  such  as  light,  vital  action,  etc.,  the  quanti- 
tative relations  have  not  yet  been  definitely  determined. 

^  Since,  then,  all  the  forces  with  which  we  are  acquainted  are 
expressible  (though  the  exact  relations  of  some  have  yet  to  be 
discovered)  in  terms  of  work,  it  is  found  of  great  advantage  to 
consider  the  power  of  doing  work  as  the  common  measure  of 
doing  all  these.    Thus,  if  we  define  energy  as  that  which  does,  or 

29 


450  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

that  v/hich  is  capable  of  doing,  work,  we  have  a  term  extremely 
convenient  in  the  description  of  some  aspects  of  our  subject. 
Thns  we  can  now  speak  of  the  energies  of  nature,  instead  of  the 
forces.  And  all  forces,  active  or  passive,  may  be  summed  up  in 
one  word  —  energy.  And,  further,  the  great  discovery  of  the 
conservation  of  forces  under  definite  equivalents,  may  be  summed 
up  very  briefly  in  this  statement  —  the  amount  or  energy  in" 
THE  UNIVERSE  IS  CONSTANT.  To  make  this  statement  clear  re- 
quires that  a  distinction  between  two  forms  of  every  kind  of 
energy  be  pointed  out.  To  recur  to  the  example  before  imagined : 
if  you  carry  the  pound  weight  to  the  top  of  the  100  foot  build- 
ing, it  might  lie  there  for  a  thousand  years  before  it  was  made 
to  give  back  the  work  you  had  performed  upon  it.  That  work 
has  been,  in  a  manner,  stored  up  by  the  position  you  have  given 
to  your  weight.  JSTow,  in  taking  up  the  weight,  you  expended 
energy  —  you  really  performed  work :  that  is  an  instance 
of  energy  in  operation,  and  may  be  termed  "  actual  energy."  In 
what  form  does  the  energy  exist  during  the  thousand  years  we 
may  suppose  your  weight  to  lie  at  the  top  of  the  building  ?  It  is 
ready  to  yield  up  your  work  again  at  any  moment  it  is  permitted 
to  descend,  and  it  possesses  therefore  during  the  whole  period  a 
potential  energy  equal  in  amount  to  the  actual  energy  you  be- 
stowed upon  it.  A  similar  distinction  between  actual  and  poten- 
tial energy  exists  with  regard  to  every  form  of  force.  If  by  any 
means  you  separate  at  atom  of  carbon  from  an  atom  of  oxygen, 
you  exert  actual  energy.  The  process  is  analogous  to  carrying 
up  the  weight.  The  atoms  when  separated  possess  potential 
energy, —  they  can  rush  together  again,  like  the  weight  to  the 
earth,  and  in  doing  so  will  give  out  the  work  which  was  expended 
on  their  separation.  A  parallel  illustration  might  be  drawn  from 
electrical  force. 

A  typical  example  of  the  storing  up  of  energy  is  furnished  by 
a  crossbow.  The  moment  a  man  begins  to  bend  the  bow  he  is 
doing  work,  because  he  pulls  the  string  in  opposition  to  the  bow's 
resistance  to  a  change  in  its  form;  and  it  is  plain  that  the 
amount  of  energy  thus  expended  is  measurable.  Suppose,  now, 
the  bow  has  been  bent  and  the  string  caught  in  the  notch,  from 
which  it  is  released  by  drawing  the  trigger  when  the  discharge 
of  the  bow  is  desired.  The  bow  may  be  retained  for  an  indefinite 
period  in  the  bent  condition,  and  in  this  state  it  possesses,  in 


GREATEST    DISCOVERY    OF   THE    AGE  451 

the  form  of  potential  energy,  all  the  work  which  has  been  ex- 
pended in  bending  it^  and  which  it  will,  in  fact,  give  out,  in 
some  way  or  other,  whenever  the  trigger  is  drawn.  To  fix  our 
ideas,  let  us  suppose  that  to  draw  the  string  over  the  notch 
required  a  pull  of  fifty  pounds  over  a  space  of  six  inches ;  that  is 
equivalent  to  50  X  %  =  ^5  units  of  work.  Now  let  the  bow  be 
used  to  shoot  an  arrow  weighing  one-quarter  pound  vertically 
upwards.  The  height  in  feet  to  which  the  arrow  will  rise  multi- 
plied into  its  weight  in  pounds  will  be  the  work  done  upon  it  by 
the  bow.  !N'ow,  we  say  that  experiment  proves  that  in  the  case 
supposed  the  arrow  would  rise  just  100  ft.,  so  that  the  work 
done  by  the  bow  (^4  X  100  =  25)  w^ould  be  precisely  that  done 
upon  it.  For  the  sake  of  simplicity,  we  keep  this  illustration 
free  from  the  mention  of  interfering  causes,  which  have  to  be 
considered  and  allowed  for  when  the  matter  is  put  to  the  real 
test  of  quantitative  experiment.  The  instance  of  the  cross-bow 
brings  into  notice  a  highly  instructive  circumstance,  which  is 
this:  the  bow,  which  it  may  have  taken  the  strength  of  a  Her- 
cules to  bend,  will  shoot  its  bolt  by  the  mere  touch  of  a  child  on 
the  trigger.  In  the  same  way,  when  a  man  fires  a  gun,  he  merely 
permits  the  potential  energy  contained  in  the  charge  to  convert 
itself  into  actual,  or  kinetic,  energy.  The  real  source  of  the 
energy,  in  the  case  of  the  child  discharging  the  cross-bow,  is  the 
muscular  power  of  the  man  who  drew  it;  the  real  source  of  the 
energy  in  exploding  gunpowder  is  the  separation  of  carbon  atoms 
from  oxygen  atoms,  and  that  has  been  done  by  the  sun's  rays,  as 
truly  as  the  string  was  pulled  away  from  the  bow  by  muscular 
power.  If  we  turn  our  attention  to  nitro-glycerine  or  to  nitro- 
cellulose, we  can,  by  following  the  chemical  actions  giving  rise 
to  these  substances,  in  like  manner  trace  their  energies  to  our 
great  luminary.  The  unstable  union  by  which  oxygen  and 
nitrogen  atoms  are  locked  up  in  the  solid  and  liquid  forms  of 
nitro-cellulose  and  nitro-glycerine  is  also  the  work  of  the  sun; 
for  nitrogen  acids,  or  rather  nitrates,  are  produced  naturally 
under  certain  electrical  and  other  conditions  of  the  atmosphere, 
which  are  due,  directly  or  indirectly,  to  the  sun's  action ;  and 
they  cannot  be  formed  artificially,  except  by  imitating  the  nat- 
ural conditions,  as  by  passing  electric  sparks  through  air,  etc. 

It  will  now  be  understood,  as  regards  the  wonderful  relations 
between  animal   and   vegetable  life,   which  have   already   been 


452  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

alluded  to  more  than  once,  how  the  snn,  by  expending  actual 
energy,  separates  atoms  of  carbon  from  atoms  of  oxj^gen  in  the 
leaves  of  plants,  and  confers  upon  these  a  position  of  advantage, 
i.  e.,  potential  energy ;  and  how  animals,  absorbing  the  separated 
carbon  in  the  form  of  food,  and  inhaling  the  separated  oxygen 
in  the  air  they  breathe,  cause  the  conversion  of  the  potential  into 
actual  energy,  which  appears  in  the  heat,  movements,  and  vital 
functions  of  the  animal  body.  In  coal  we  have  the  energy  which 
plants  absorbed  from  the  sun  ages  ago,  stored  up  in  a  potential 
form.  The  carbon  atoms  are  ready  to  rush  into  union  with 
oxygen  atoms,  and  convert  their  energy  of  position  into  the  ener- 
gies developed  by  chemical  action,  viz.,  heat,  light,  etc.  Energy 
is  thus  constantly  shifting  its  form  from  actual  to  potential,  and 
vice  versa,  and  exhibiting  itself  under  the  various  transforma- 
tions of  force,  as  when  sun-force  changes  to  chemical  action, 
chemical  action  to  heat,  heat  to  electricity,  etc.  Energy  is,  in- 
deed, the  real  modem  Proteus  —  constantly  assuming  different 
shapes,  difficult  to  grasp  if  not  held  in  fetters ;  now  taking  on  the 
form  of  a  lion,  now  of  a  flame  of  fire,  a  whirlwind,  a  rushing 
stream.  As  sober,  literal  matter  of  fact  we  catch  glimpses  of 
energy  under  these  very  forms. 

The  greatest  discovery  of  the  age  has,  as  already  indicated, 
immediate  and  important  practical  bearings.  The  amount  of 
thought  which,  even  in  the  present  day,  is  devoted  by  unscientific 
mechanics  to  the  old  problem  of  perpetual  motion  is  far  greater 
than  is  generally  supposed.  The  principle  of  the  conservation 
of  energy  shows  that  this  is  an  impossibility;  that  the  inventor 
who  seeks  to  create  force  might  just  as  well  try  to  create  matter ; 
that  the  production  of  a  perpetually  moving  self-sustaining  ma- 
chine is  as  far  removed  from  human  power  as  the  bringing  into 
existence  of  a  new  planet.  In  force,  as  in  matter,  the  law  is 
inexorable  —  ex  niliilo  nihil  fit.  Again,  knowing  the  definite 
amount  of  energy  obtainable  from  the  combustion  of  a  pound  of 
coal,  we  can  compare  the  amount  we  actually  procure  from  it  in 
our  steam  engines  with  this  theoretical  quantity  as  the  limit 
towards  which  our  improvements  should  bring  us  continually 
nearer,  but  which  we  can  never  exceed,  or,  indeed,  even  reach. 
The  schemers  of  perpetual  motion  are  not  the  only  class  of  specu- 
lators who  pursue  objects  which  are  incompatible  with  our  prin- 
ciple.    There  are  many  who  seek  to  accomplish  desirable  ends 


GREATEST   DISCOVERY    OF   THE    AGE  453 

by  inadequate  means :  who,  for  example,  are  aiming  perhaps  to 
accomplish  the  reduction  of  ores  by  a  quantity  of  fuel  less  than 
that  mechanically  equivalent  to  the  work,  or  who  conceive  that 
by  adding  to  coal  some  substance  which  itself  is  unchanged,  an 
indefinitely  greater  amount  of  heat  may  be  liberated  by  the  com- 
bustion. 

Enough  has  been  said  to  show  that  the  energies  of  animal  life 
can  be  traced  to  the  sun  as  their  source.  The  sun  builds  up  the 
plant,  separating  oxygen  from  carbon.  The  animal  —  directly 
or  mediately  by  devouring  other  animals  —  takes  the  carbona- 
ceous matter  of  the  plant,  and  reunites  it  with  oxygen.  In  the 
plant  the  sun  winds  up  the  spring  which  gives  life  to  the  animal 
mechanism;  for  the  winding-up  of  a  spring  and  the  separation 
of  the  atoms  having  chemical  affinities  are  alike  instances  of  sup- 
plying potential  energy.  In  the  animal  there  is  a  running-down 
of  the  potential  into  actual  energy.  It  is  plain  also  that  of  the 
total  energy  radiated  from  the  sun  in  every  direction,  the  earth 
receives  but  a  very  small  part  (  28To oVoo^yo  ) .  By  far  the  larger 
part  is  diffused  into  space,  where,  for  all  such  purposes  as  those 
with  which  we  are  concerned,  it  is  lost.  The  heat  which  the  sun 
sends  out  in  a  year  is  calculated  to  be  equal  to  that  which  would 
be  produced  by  the  combustion  of  a  layer  of  coal  17  miles  thick 
over  the  whole  surface  of  the  luminary.  Is  the  sun,  then,  a 
flaming  fire  ?  B}'  no  means.  Combustion  is  not  possible  at  its 
temperature;  and  as  we  know  the  substances  which  enter  into 
its  composition  are  the  same  as  those  we  find  in  the  earth,  we 
know  that  the  chemical  energies  of  such  substances  could  not 
supply  the  sun's  expenditure.  Passing  over  as  unsatisfactory  an 
explanation  which  might  occur  to  some  minds  —  namely,  that 
the  sun  was  created  hot  at  the  beginning,  and  has  so  continued 
—  there  are  two  theories  which  attempt  to  account  for  the  sun's 
heat.  One  is  that  of  Meyer,  who  supposed  the  heat  is  due  to 
the  continual  impact  of  meteorites  drawn  to  the  sun  by  its 
gravity;  and  the  other  is  that  of  Helmholtz,  who  attributes  the 
heat  to  the  continual  condensation  of  the  substance  of  the  sun. 
Helmholtz  calculates  that  a  shrinking  of  the  sun's  diameter  by 
only  mooth  of  its  present  amount,  would  supply  heat  to  last  for 
two  thousand  years;  while  the  condensation  of  the  substance  of 
the  sun  to,  the  density  of  the  earth  would  cover  the  sun's  expen- 
diture for  17,000,000  of  years.     There  is  great  probability  that 


454  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

both  theories  may  be  correct^  and  that  the  cause  of  the  sun's 
heat  may  be  considered  as  due  in  general  terms  to  aggregation 
of  matter,  by  which  the  original  potential  energ}^  of  position  is 
converted  into  the  actual  energy  of  heat  and  light.  Now,  how- 
ever immense  may  be  our  planetary  system,  the  sun  being  con- 
tinually throwing  off  this  energy  into  space,  there  must  come  a 
lime  when  the  supplies  of  meteorites  will  fail,  and  when  the 
great  globe  of  the  sun  will  have  shrunk  to  its  smallest  dimen- 
sions. We  see,  then,  that  heat  and  light  are  produced  by  the 
aggregation  of  matter;  the  heat  and  light  are  radiated  into 
space;  the  small  fraction  intercepted  by  our  globe  is  the  source 
of  almost  every  movement  —  the  original  stuff,  so  to  speak,  out 
of  which  all  terrestrial  forces  are  made.  The  sun  produces  the 
winds,  the  thunderstorms,  the  electric  currents  of  the  Aurora, 
the  phenomena  of  terrestrial  magnetism,  and  is  the  source  of 
vegetable  and  animal  life.  The  waves,  the  rains,  the  mountain 
torrents,  the  flowing  rivers,  are  the  work  of  the  sun's  emana- 
tions. 

In  the  illustration  of  the  energy  expended  on  raising  a  weight 
afterwards  dropped,  we  traced  that  energy  into  the  final  form 
of  heat  of  a  low  temperature  radiated  into  space.  It  would  be 
easy  to  show  that  all  energy  ultimately  takes  the  same  form. 
Now,  although  it  is  easy  to  convert  work  into  heat,  there  is  no 
conceivable  process  by  which  uniformly-diffused  heat  can  again 
be  made  to  do  any  kind  of  work.  The  case  may  be  compared  to 
water,  which  in  moving  down  from  a  higher  to  a  lower  level  may 
be  made  to  perform  any  variety  of  work.  But  when  all  the  water 
has  passed  down  from  the  higher  level  to  the  lower,  it  can  no 
longer  do  any  work.  Whenever  work  is  done  by  the  agency  of 
heat,  there  is  always  a  passing  from  a  higher  temperature  to  a 
lower  —  a  transference  of  heat  from  a  hotter  body  to  a  colder. 
If  the  condenser  of  the  steam  engine  had  the  same  temperature 
as  the  steam,  the  machine  would  not  work.  Not  only  do  all  the 
energies  in  operation  on  the  face  of  the  earth  continually  run 
down  into  the  form  of  radiant  heat  sent  off  by  the  earth  into 
space;  but  our  sun's  energy,  and  that  of  the  suns  of  other  sys- 
tems, are  also  continually  passing  off  into  space;  and  the  final 
effect  must  be  a  uniform  diffusion  of  heat  in  a  universe  in  which 
none  of  the  varied  forms  of  energy  we  now  behold  in  operation 
will  be  possible,  because  all  will  have  run  down  to  the  same  dead 


GREATEST    DISCOVERY    OF   THE    AGE  455 

level  of  uniformly-diffused  heat.  This  startling  corollary  from 
the  principle  of  the  conservation  of  energy  has  been  worked  out 
by  Lord  Kelvin  under  the  title  of  "  The  Dissipation  of  Energy." 
It  leads  us  to  contemplate  a  state  of  things  in  which  all  light 
and  life  will  have  passed  away  from  the  universe  —  a  condition 
which  the  poet's  terrible  dream  of  darkness^  "  which  was  not  all 
a  dream/'  seems  to  shadow  forth  — 

"  The  bright  sun  was  extinguished,  and  the  stars 
Did  wander  darkling  in  the  eternal  space, 
Rayless  and  pathless ;  and  the  icy  earth 
Swung  blind  and  blackening  in  the  moonless  air. 

The  world  was  void. 
The  populous  and  the  powerful  was  a  lump, 
Seasonless,  herbless,  treeless,  manless,  lifeless  — 
A  lump  of  death  —  a  chaos  of  hard  clay. 
The  rivers,  lakes,  and  ocean  all  stood  still, 
And  nothing  stirred  within  their  silent  depths, 
****** 

The  waves  were  dead  ;  the  tides  were  in  their  grave, 
The  Moon,  their  mistress,  had  expired  before ; 
The  winds  were  withered  in  the  stagnant  air. 
And  the  clouds  perished ;  Darkness  had  no  need 
Of  aid  from  them  —  She  was  the  Universe." 

The  doctrine  of  this  persistence  and  dissipation  of  energy  com- 
pletely harmonizes  with  the  grand  speculation  termed  the  "  nebu- 
lar hypothesis/'  which  regards  the  universe  as  having  originally 
consisted  of  uniformly  diffused  matter,  which,  being  endowed 
with  the  power  of  gravitation,  aggregated  round  certain  centers. 
This  process  is  still  going  on ;  and,  according  to  modern  specula- 
tions, light  and  life  and  motion  are  but  manifestations  of  this 
primaeval  potential  energy  being  converted  into  actual  energy, 
and  degrading  ultimately  into  the  form  of  universally-diffused 
heat.  To  quote  the  closing  sentences  of  the  eloquent  passage  in 
which  Professor  Tyndall  concludes  the  work  mentioned  above, 
"  To  nature  nothing  can  be  added,  from  nature  nothing  can  be 
taken  away ;  the  sum  of  her  energies  is  constant,  and  the  utmost 
man  can  do  in  the  pursuit  of  physical  truth,  or  in  the  applica- 
tions of  physical  knowledge,  is  to  shift  the  constituents  of  the 
never-varying  total.  The  law  of  conservation  rigidly  excludes 
both  creation  and  annihilation.     Waves  may  change  to  ripples. 


456  MODERN  INVENTIONS 

and  ripples  to  waves ;  magnitude  may  be  substituted  for  number, 
and  number  for  magnitude;  asteroids  may  aggregate  to  suns, 
suns  may  resolve  themselves  into  florae  and  faunae,  and  florae  and 
faunae  melt  in  air:  the  flux  of  power  is  eternally  the  same.  It 
rolls  in  music  through  the  ages,  and  all  terrestrial  energy  —  the 
manifestations  of  life  as  well  as  the  display  of  phenomena  — 
are  but  the  modulations  of  its  rhythm/^ 


INDEX 


Absolute  time,  183 

Abysses  in  the  sea,  255 

Accuracy    of   measurements,   essen- 
tials of,  161-164 

Acetylene  gas,  discovery  of,  358 

Acheson,   E.    G.,    on    artificial   dia- 
monds, 127,  128 

Adams,  John   Quincy.  on  the  met- 
ric system,  218 

Ader,  artificial  bird  of,  37 

Aerial  navigation,   14-83 

Aero  club  of  France,  14 
of  America,  14 

Aerodrome  of  Langley,  30,  37,  38, 
40-62 
signification  of  word,  40  (note) 

Aeronautical  Institute,  14 

Aerostation,     principles     concerned 
in,  19,  20 

Affluence  and  poverty,  effect  of  on 
long  life,  395 

Agnostics,  objections  of,  220,  221 

Agriculture,   unsolved  problems  of, 
356 

Air-pressure  at  high  speeds,  28 

Air-ship  most  likely  to  be  useful,  30 

Albatross  of  Le  Bris,  31 

Alcohol,  effect  of  on  long  life,  395 

Algae,  none  in  great  depths,  253 

Alpha    Centauri,    the   nearest   star, 
226 

Aluminum    used    for    phonographic 
diaphragms,  8 

Amoebe,  lowest  form  of  life,  142 

Archytas,  story  of,  16 

Anaesthetics,  discovery,  of,  376 

Andree's     attempt     to     reach    the 
North  pole,  24 

Animals,  color  of  in  deep  sea,  261 

Animal  life,  influence  of  radium  on, 
96 

Anopheles,    the    malaria    mosquito, 
419,  426-432. 

Apparent  time,  183 

Arcual  unit,  152 

Aristotle  on  time,  183 

Arithmetical  triangle,  203 

Arm   and   wing  bones,   analogy  of, 
45 

457 


Art  of  prolonging  life,  389^05 
Artificial     birds      of     various     in- 
ventors, 37 
flight,  problems  of  stated,  32 
heat,  how  produced,  125 
Astrolabe    introduced    by    Alexan- 
drian  astronomers,    151 
Astronomical  errors,  correction  of, 
151 
measurements,  170,  171.  174 
Astronomy,  questions  of,  158,  159 
the  new,  indicates  man's  place 
in  the  universe,  219-237 
Atmosphere,  temperature  variations 

of  102-104 
Atoms,  an  unsolved  chemical  prob- 
lem, 145,  146 
Aulus  Gellius,  story  of  Archytas,  16 
Automatic    telegraphic    instrument, 
invented  by  Edison,  34 
phonograph  buoy,  12 
Augustine,  St.,  on  time,  182 
Automobile,  evolution  of,  320-327 

contest,  first,  323 
Australian  ladybird,  435 
Aviation,    principles    concerned    in, 
19 

Babbage,  constant  numbers  of,  202 
Bachelorhood,  effect  of  on  longev- 
ity, 394 
Bacillus  Anthracis,  370,  371 
Bacon,  Francis,  on  the  senses,  156 
Bacon,  Roger,  on  balloons,  18,  20 
Bacqueville,   Marquis   de,   artificial 

flight  of.  17 
Bacteria  in  consumption,  408,  410 
Baker,  Ray   Stannard,  on  the  pho- 
nograph,  111 
on  liquid  air,  112 
on  hottest  air,  122 
Balance,  the,  in  chemistry,  152 
Balancing  in   aerial   flight,  47,  48, 

56 
Banet-Rivet,  on  competition  of  bal- 
loon and  ships,  28 
Ballons  Sondes  in  meteorology,  23 
Balloon,  invention  of,  18,  20 


458 


INDEX 


service  of,  to  meteorology,  22, 

23 
not   dirigible,  24;   attempts  to 
make  it  so,  25,  27 ;  necessity 
of  being  dirigible,  27 
and  aeroplane,  39 

Balloons,  first  ascents  of,  21 
in  war,  30,  83 

Becquerel,  Professor,  discoverer  of 
Becquerel  rays,  87 

Bell,  Alexander  Graham,  honors  of, 
7 ;  establishes  Volta  Labora- 
tory Association,  7 ;   invents 
the  graphophone,  7 
describes  the  aerodrome,  59-62 

Bell,  Chichester  A.,  associate  of  A. 
G.  Bell,  7 

Bernhardt,  voice  of,  pictured,  10 

Bernouilli's  tables,  203 

Berzelius,      determines      atomic 
weights,  202 

Besnier    de    Sable,    artificial    flight 
of,  17 

Bettini,    G.,    improvements    of,    on 
phonograph  diaphragms,   8 

Black,    suggests    a    gas-filled    blad- 
der, 21 

Black-scale  and  its  enemy,  436,  437 

Blast  furnaces,  heat  of,  130 

Brewster,  Sir  David,  on  habitability 
of  the  planets,  219 

Brownell,    Ludlow,    on    earthquake 
recorders,  336 

BufPon,  on  length  of  life,  390 

Bushel,     the     use     of     by     Anglo- 
Saxons,  209 

Cailletet,  experiments  of,  on  gases, 

106 
Campanari,  voice  of,  pictured.  10 
Carbohydrates,  constitution  of,  139, 

140 
Carbon  and  lime  fused,  125,  126 
Carbonic-acid   gas,   liquefaction   of, 

107 
Carlingford's  patent  eagle  team,  19 
Carre's    ice-machine,    principle    of, 

104 
Cavallo,  Tiberio,  fills  bubbles  with 

hydrogen,  20 
Cayley's  flying  machine,  16 
Centigrade     scale,    compared     with 

the  Fahrenheit  scale,  102 
Cleanliness,  as  helping  to  longevity, 

404 
Clergymen,  and  longevity,  394 
Climacteric  period  of  life,  397 
Clusters,  of  stars,  229-231 
Chaldea,  measures  and  weights  orig- 
inate in,  209 
Challenger  expedition,  253 
Chanute,  experiments  of,  with  fly- 


ing machines,  15,  33-35 
on  the  flight  of  birds,  33,  34,  35 

Charles,    Professor,    hydrogen    bal- 
loon of,  22 

Charleston    earthquake,    338,    345, 
346 

Chemical  change,  the  beginning  of 
life,  138 

Chemistry,    unsolved    problems    of, 
136-149 
its  function,  142,  143 

Childbirth,  use  of  ether  in,  382 

Chronometry,  ultimate  standard  of, 
186 

Coal  deposits  of  the  earth,  271,  276 
waste  of,  351-353 

Coal-Sacks,    barren    spots    in    the 
heavens,  222 

Cold,  absolute,  102-111 

importance  of  in  chemical  acts, 
144 

Cold-explosion,    danger    of    in    bal- 
looning, 82 

Coleman,    P.    P.,    on    hints    to    in- 
ventors, 349-360 

Colton  and  laughing  gas,  377,  383 

Condors,  flight  of,  31 

Constant  numbers,  202-206 

Constituents,  fundamental  of  plants 
and  animals,  138 

Contagiousness  of  consumption,  407 

Cotton-gin,  282,  283-287 

Consumption,     the     fight     against, 
406-417 

Cooling,  methods  of,  106,  107 

Corundum,    artificial    manufacture 
of,  129-135 

Crith,  definition  of,  195 

Crookes,     Sir     Wm.,     invents     the 
spinthariscope,  94 

Cros,   Charles,    invents   the   gramo- 
phone, 7,  8 

Cugnot's,  automobile,  320 

Cures  for  consumption,  413 

Curie,     M.     and     Mme.,     discover 
radium,  84,  85 

Curtis,  C.   G.,  improves  the  steam 
turbine,  312 

Curtis,  Frank,  automatic  fire-engine 
of,  321 

Cylinders,   value   of  large   ones,   in 
phonographs,  11 

Djedalus,  14,  15 

Dante,  Gianbattista,  artificial  flight 

of,  17 
Dark   lines  of  spectrum,  240,  241, 

244 
Darwin,  Charles,  describes  flight  of 

condors,  31 
Darwin,   Erasmus,  prophecy  of  on 

human  flight,  26 


INDEX 


459 


Davy,  Humphry,  studies  of  gases, 
376,  385 

Decimal  standard  originally  Eng- 
lish, 211 

Deep  sea  life,  250-270 
explorations  of.  252 
condition  of  bottom,  253,  254, 

258,  261  et  seq. 
life  of,  255 
how  supported,   257,  262,  264 

et  seq. 
temperatures  of,  258,  260 
calmness  of.  259 
light  at  great  depths,  263,  265 
colors  of  animals  in,  265 

Deity,  man's  irrational  conception 
of,  220 

De  Laval  type  of  steam  turbine, 
311 

Demarest,  Henry,  on  absolute  cold, 
102 

Densmore.  James,  and  the  tvpe- 
writer,  307 

Density,  measurement  of,  191 

Deutsch,  M,,  establishes  a  balloon- 
ing prize,  72 

Development  of  life  prevented  bv 
radium,  98,  99 

Dewar's  apparatus  for  liquefaction 
of  gases,  106,  107,  113,  123, 
124,  145 

Diamonds,  artificial,  126-135 

Dido  and  site  of  Carthage,  207,  208 

Dimensions,  theory  of,  198 

Discoverv.  the  greatest  of  the  age, 
443^56 

Diseases.  Pasteur's  studv  of,  368, 
369 

Distances  of  the  stars,  221,  226 

Distribution  of  stars  in  space,  224- 
227 

Dollond  and  Herschel,  labors  of, 
222 

Double  stars,  247,  248 

Dunbar,    Newell,    on    the    Spectro- 
scope, 238-249 
on  consumption,  406-417 

Dupuy  de  Lome,  balloon  of,  26 

Eagle's  flight  described.  52 
Early-rising,  of  the  aged.  395 
Earth,  a  frozen  sphere,  115 
once  a  gaseous  body.  125 
the  real  astronomer's  clock.  184 
the  centre  of  the  universe.  219 
the.   as  adapted  for  life,  231- 
237 
Earthquake  recorders.  336 

stations.  339.  340,  341,  347 
autographs,  345 
Edison  invents  phonograph,  2-7 
his  methods  of  work,  2 


his  work  on  telephone,  3 
invents    automatic    telegraphic 

instrument,  3,  4 
describes  his  invention.  7 
reproduces  opera  of  '"Martha" 
by    phonograph    and    kineto- 
scope,  11.  12 
Eiffle  Tower,  circling  the,  29,  63- 

83 
Electric  furnaces  at  Niagara  Falls, 

126-134 
Electrical  measurements,  164 
storm  indicator,  328-335 
Elements  in  chemistry,  137,  138 
Elmerus,  flight  of,  17 
Energy,  measurements  of,  191 
unit  of,  196 

the  amount   of  in   universe   is 
constant,  450 
Engine  run  by  liquid  air,  120,  121 
English  standards  of   weights   and 

measures,  210 
English  sparrows,  441 
Equivalent  weight,  195 

of  heat,  446 
Equivalents  of  metric  system,  216 
Ericsson.    John,    solar    engine    of, 

274 
Ether,  use  of  as  an  anaesthetic,  378, 
379 
flrst  operation  under,  380 
Evolution  of  the  automobile,  320- 

327 
Exact  measurement  of  phenomena, 

150-180 
Exercise,  danger  of  too  much,  399 

Faraday,  volta  prize  given  to,  7 
experiments  on  liquefaction  of 

gases,  105 
on  ether,  379 

Fats,  constitution  of,  139 

Faure,  experiments  of,  on  heat,  121 

Ferments,   Pasteur's  study  of,  367 

Fig  insect,  440 

Fire-balloons,  21 

Fire-brick,  melting  of,  130 

Fire-engine,  first  horseless,  321 

Fitch,  John,  automobile  of,  321 

Fizeau,  attempts  of  to  establish  a 
standard  of  length,  188 

"Fliegesport,"    as   a    rival    to    ath- 
letics. 35 

Flight,  artificial,  first  attributed  to 
Daedalus,  15 
shown  in  Egyptian  tombs,  1.5 
mechanically  possible,  16 
classification  of  methods.  19 

Flight,  laws  of,  to  be  found  in  soar- 
ing birds,  31 
theory  of,  43-45 

Fly,  iron,  of  Regiomontanus,  16 


460 


INDEX 


Flying  machine  of  the  future,  akin 
to  a  steamship,  35 

Flying  machines,  ancestors  of,  37 

Flying  men,  stories  of,  16-19 

Food,  as  helping  to  longevity,  401, 
402 

Foot,  the,  an  ancient  Egyptian 
measure,  208 

Foot-pound,  unit  of  energy,  196 

Forces  of  nature,  interrelation  of, 
444 

Fourier,  Joseph,  theory  of  dimen- 
sions of,  198,  199 

Fowl-cholera,  370 

Fraunhofer's  study  of  the  spec- 
trum lines,  241 

French  revolution  and  standards  of 
weights  and  measures,  211, 
212 

Galaxy,  or  milky  way,  227-229 
Gases    from    earth    surface,    radio- 
activity of,  101 
Gauss'  pendulum  method,  190 
Geddes,  Patrick,  on  Louis  Pasteur, 

361 
Giffard,  Henry,  balloon  of,  26 
Glaisher,    James,    on    balloons    and 

meteorology,  22,  23 
Glass,   used   for   phonographic   dia- 
phragms, 8 
Glidden,  Carlos,  and  the  typewriter, 

306 
Good  roads,  pioneers  of  the  move- 
ment for,  322 
Goodyear,      Charles,      inventor     of 
India-rubber  process,  294-297 
Gramme,  the  unit  of  mass,  192 
Gramophone,  invention  and  nature 

of,  7,  8 
Grand  climacteric,  the,  397 
Grand  Prix  for  balloonists,  66 
Grant  Allen,  quoted,  221 
Graphite,  how  produced  artificially, 

126 
Graphophone,  invention  of.  7 
Gravity,  measurement  of,  195 

Habitability    of    the    planets,    219, 

220 
Harvey,   Alexander,   on   the  metric 
system,  207 
on  wonder-working  inventions, 
281 
Ilausted,    Johann,    automobile    of, 

320 
Heat,  effect  of  loss  of,  102 
unit  of,  198 
the  hottest,  122^135 
important  factor  in  the  chemi- 
cal acts,  144 


Height,  effect  of,  on  atmospheric 
temperatures,  103 

Helium,  liquefaction  of,  110 

Herschel,  Sir  John,  measurement  of 
stars  by,  152 
and  Dollond,  labors  of,  222 

-High  temperatures,  how  produced, 
125,  126 

Hobbes,  on  time,  183 

Hobby,  value  of,  for  prolonging 
life,  399 

Hoe,  Richard  M,,  inventor  of  the 
cylinder  press,  300-302 

Homogeneity,  principle  of,  200 

Hottest  heat,  the,  122-135 

Howard,  Leland  O.,  on  extermina- 
tion of  pests,  433-442 

Howe,  Elias,  inventor  of  the  sew- 
ing-machine,  282-294 

Hutton,  constant  numbers  of,  202 

Hydrophobia,  Pasteur's  work  on, 
372 

Icarus,  15 

Incommensurable  quantities,  153 
Injurious   insects,   diseases   of,   438 
Inoculation    practiced    by    Pasteur, 

371 
Insect  allies  in  fighting  pests,  433- 

442 
Instruments  of  precision,  150,  151 
Inventions,   wonder-working.  281 
Inventors,  hints  to,  349-360 
Iquique,  earthquake  at,  347 

Jackson,  Dr.  Charles,  and  anaes- 
thetics. 380-384 

Japan,  earthquakes  in,  339,  344, 
346 

Jevons,  TV.  Stanley,  on  exact  meas- 
urements of  phenomena,  150 
on  units  and  standards  of 
measurements,  181 

Kapteyn,  Professor,  on  solar  clus- 
ters, 229 
Kater's  reversible  pendulum,  190 
Kelvin,    Lord,    on    the    metric    sys- 
tem, 207 
Kent,  Charles,  on  the  spectroscope, 

238,  239 
Kinetoscope  and  phonograph,  11.  12 
Knickerbocker,  Diedrich,  on  stand- 
ards of  New  Amsterdam,  211 
Kirchhoff,    Gustave.    on    the    spec- 
trum, 244,  245 
Kite,  motion  needed  to  lift  it,  44 
Kitty  Hawk  reef,  guarded  by  pho- 
nograph buoy,  12 
Koch's  work  on  bacillus,  370 
Krebs  and  Renard,  balloon  of,  24, 
26-28 


INDEX 


461 


Kreusi,  John,  Edison's  assistant,  5 

Lana's  suggestion  for  a  copper  bal- 
loon, 20 
Lansdowne,    Marquis     of,     on     the 

metric  system,  207 
Langley.  S.   P..  Aerodrome  of,  30, 
37,  38,  40 
on  the  pterodactyl,  31 
works  of  quoted,  31,  32,  33.  36 
describes  his  aerodrome,  40 
his  study  of  the  problems  of  air 

navigation,  40,  62 
his  law  of  aerial  flight,  36,  37 
La  Bris,  artificial  bird  of,  37 
La  France,   the   balloon    of    Krebs 

and  Renard,  27 
Laughing-gas,  377,  383 
Laveran's     discovery     in     malarial 

fevers,  419 
Length,  how  defined,  182 
Lengths,  determination  of,  179 
Leprosy,  less  contagious  than  con- 
sumption, 407 
Leslie's  experiment  in  freezing,  104 
Life,  beginning  of,  found  in  chem- 
ical change,  138 
in  the  deep  sea,  250-270 
natural  duration  of,  390-393 
Light  of  the  future,  radium,  89 

measurement   of   the    intensity 

of,  197 
composition  of,  239 
decomposition  of,  240 
Lilienthal,  experiments  of,  15,  16 

his  first  machine,  34,  35 
Lime  and  carbon  fused,  125,  126 
Linotvpe     machine,     invention     of, 

304,  305 
Liquid  air,  112-121 

produced  by  Dewar,  113 
in  water,  action  of,  117,  118 
as  an  explosive,  119 
Liter,  unit  of  capacity,  195 
Lockyer,  Sir  Norman,  on  the  con- 
struction  of   a   spectroscope, 
243 
Logarithms,  203 

Lome,  Dupuy  de,  balloon  of,  26 
Long,  Dr.  Crauford,  and  ether,  380, 

384 
Longevity,  art  of,  389-405 

alleged  aids  to,  396 
Lunardi    makes    first    ascent    of    a 
human  being,  Sept.  14,  1784, 
21 
Lyle,  Eugene  P.,  on  storm  indica- 
tors, 328 

Magnitudes  of  two  kinds,  151 
Malaria  and  mosquitoes,  418,  432 


Man  and  bird  skeletons,  analogy  of, 

46 
Man,  unique  position  of  in  the  uni- 
verse, 220 
Man's  place  in   the  universe,  219- 

237 
Mark  Twain,  voice  of,  pictured,  10 
"  Mary    had    a    little    lamb,"    first 
words  reproduced  by  phono- 
graph. 5 
Mass,  unit  of,  191 
Materialists,  objections  of,  220,  221 
Matter,  indestructible,  444 
Maxim,  Sir  Hiram,  on  speed  of  bal- 
loon, 36 
flying  machine  of,  37 
Maxwell,   Prof.,  on  natural  stand- 
ards, 192,  193 
McCormick,  Cyrus  H.,  inventor  of 

the  reaper,  297-300 
McDonald,  Thos.   H.,  improvement 
of,    on    phonographic    cylin- 
ders, 10,  11 
Measurements,  modes  of,  163-168 
Measurements,  indirect,  175 
Mechanical    principles,    determina- 
tion of,  172 
Medical  uses  of  radium,  100 
Melba,  voice  of,  pictured,  1 
Men,  flying,  stories  of.  16^-19 
Menelek,     of     Abyssinia     and     the 

phonograph,  13 
Mergenthaler,   Ottmar,   invents  the 

type-setting  machine,  304 
Meteorology,  served  by  balloons,  22, 

23 
Metre,  unit  of  length,  195 
Metric  system,  the,  207-218 

tables,  213,  214,  216 
Microbes,  effect  of  cold  on,  110 
Microscope,  invented  (1590),  238 
Milky  way,  222,  223,  227-229 
Milne,  Prof.   John,  earthquake  ob- 
servatory "of,  336 
Minute  quantities,  importance  of  in 

science,  151 
Minute  measurements,  173 
Moderation,  necessary  for  long  life. 

395 
Moffet,  Cleveland,  on  radium,  84 
Moissan,   experiments  of,   on   heat, 
125,  126 
his    method    of     making     dia- 
monds, 134 
Momentum,  measurement  of,  195 
Mongoose  in  Australia,  441 
Monsters,      animal,     produced     by 

radium,  99 
Montgolfier  brothers,  experiment  of, 
21 
find  idea  for  hot-air  balloon,  77 


462 


INDEX 


Morton,  Dr.,  and  anaesthetics,  380- 

382,  384 
Mosquitoes  and  malaria,  418-432 
Mother  Shipton's  prophecy,  320 
Motor,  a  proper  one  solves  problem 

of  aerial  navigation,  77 
Motors,   Langley's   experiments  on, 

48,  et  seq. 
of  Santos-Dumont,  29 
Multiplication    table,    a    series    of 

constant  numbers,  202,  203 
Murdock,    William,    automobile   of, 

321 
Mythological  flying-machines,  14 

Napoleon      I.,      establishes      Volta 

prize,  7 
Natural  system  of  standards,  192 
Nebulse,  as  revealed  by  the  spectro- 
scope, 248 
Newcomb,   Prof.    Simon,   223,   227, 

229 
Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  on  composition 
of  light,  239 
a    pioneer    in    exact    measure- 
ments, 173 
Nickel,  burning  point  of,  125 
Nickel  steel,  effect  of  cold  on,  110 
Nicholas    Nickleby,    reproduced    by 

the  phonograph,  12,  13 
Niagara  Falls,  furnaces  at,  121 
Nicolini,  voice  of,  pictured,  1 
Nightmares,  origin  of,  14,  15 
Nitrous  oxide  as  an  anaesthetic,  376, 

et  seq. 
Norwood,  measurement  of  a  degree 

by,  152 
Nutation,  constant  of,  151 

Occupation  necessary  for  long  life, 
398 

Old  age,  capability  of  attaining,  393 
physical  marks  of,  397 
extreme    longevitj^    more    com- 
mon among  men  than  among 
women,  393 
as  an  incurable  disease,  405 

Old  fields,  restoration  of,  356 

Olive,  insect  enemies  of,  436 

Olzeffski    and    Vrobleffski,    experi- 
ments of  on  gases,  107,  112 

One  hundred  years,  the  limit  of  life, 
393 

Orange,  N.  J.,  Edison's  laboratory 
at,  253 

Ordinances     against     consumption, 
412 

Organic   bodies,   effect   of   cold   on, 
110 

Ott,  John,   his  work   in   perfecting 
phonograph,  3,  4 


Oxj^gen,  liquid,  as  an  explosive,  118 

Parsons,  Hon.  C.  A.,  introduces  the 

steam  turbine,  311,  350 
Pasteur  and  his  work,  361-375 
Pests,  extermination  of,  433-442 
Penaud,  artificial  bird  of,  37 

flying-machine  of,  47 
Pendulum,     a    perfect    instrument, 

168,  177,  178,  179,  186 
Permanent  gases,  105 
Petroleum  motor,  78 
Pictet,  Raoul,  experiments  of,  with 

gases,  106,  107,  112 
Phenomena,  exact  measurement  of, 

150-180 
Phonautograph,  Scott's,  1-3 
Photography,  revelations  of,  in  as- 
tronomy, 227 
Phylloxera,  in  France,  439,  440 
Physical  science,  questions  in,  157, 

158 
Physicians  and  long  life,  394 
Phonograph,  the,  1-13 

first  words  reproduced  by,  5 
sensitiveness  of,  11 
as  teacher  of  languages,  11 
in  oflBces,  12 

use  of  by  authors,  etc.,  12 
use  of  in  a  buoy,  12 
use  of  to  reproduce  books,  12, 
13 
Pichancourt,  artificial  bird  of,  37 
Pigeon  of  Archytas,  16,  31 
Pilcher,  experiments  of,  15,  35 
Planets,  habitability  of,  219,  220 
Platinum,  burning  point  of,  125 
Pleiades,  motion  of,  224 
Pockets  or  abysses  in  the  sea.  255, 

256 
Polar  regions,  low  temperature  of, 

104 
Pound,  English,  192 

an  Egyptian  measure,  208 
use  of  by  Anglo-Saxons,  209 
various  kinds  of,  210 
Poverty,  effect  of  on  long  life,  395 
Printing  press,  282,  300-302 
Proper  motion  and  distance,  256^ 
Proteids,      an     unsolved     chemical 

problem,  141 
Protoplasm,    an   unsolved   chemical 

problem,  141,  142 
Provisional  units,  198 
Pterodactyl,     the     greatest     flying 

creature,  31 
Pyramids,  measurements  of,  209 

Quantitative    determinations,    158, 

159 
Quantity  of  revolution,  152 
conceptions  of,  154 


INDEX 


463 


Quartz,  not  altered  by  changes   in 
temperature,  188 

Rabies,  see  Hydrophobia 
Radio-activity    of    radium    emana- 
tions, 95 
of  earth  gases,  101 
of  springs,  101 
Radium,  story  of,  84-101 
how  obtained,  86,  91,  92 
form  of,  86 
sores  made  by,  87 
destructive  power  of,  87 
heat  and  light  of,  88,  89 
continuance  of  the  power  of,  88 
the  light  of  the  future,  89 
quantity  of,  90 
cost  of,  90 

gaseous  product  of,  93 
influence     of     on     other     sub- 
stances, 93,  95,  96 
influence  of  on  animal  life,  96- 
101 
Rainfall  in  Mississippi  valley,  272, 

279 
Reaper  and  thresher,  282,  283,  297- 

300 
Record-making  for  phonographs,  a 

new  profession,  9 
Records,  phonographic,  how  made, 

9,  10 
Regiomontanus,  iron  fly  of,  16 
Remington  company  and  the  type- 
writer, 307 
Remsen,  Ira,  on  unsolved  problems 

of  chemistry,  136-149 
Renard  and  Krebs,  balloon  of,  24, 

26,  27,  28 
Repetition,    value    of    in    measure- 
ments, 169,  170 
Riggs,    Dr.,    and   anaesthetics,    377, 

378 
Riley,  C.  V.,  work  of,  for  agricul- 
ture, 433 
Rontgen  rays,  355 
Roose,  Robson,  M.  D.,  on  longevity, 

389 
Ross,  Sir  John,  expedition  of,  252 
Rotary  steam  engine,  need  of,  349 
Routledge,    Robert,    on    discovery, 

443 
Rubber  manufacturing  process,  282, 

294,  297 
Russian    usage    in    measurements, 
210,  211 

Sahara  desert.  275 

Santos-Dumont,  24.  26,  27,  29 

circles  the  Eiffle  tower,  63,  et 

seq. 
balloon  of  described,  67,  72,  76 
contribution   of   to  solution  of 


problem   of   flight,   77 ;    nar- 
row escapes  of,  82 
Scale  insect,  destructiveness  of,  433 
Scott's 'phonautograph,  1-3 
Seeds,  used  as  weights,  208 
Senses,  unassisted,  not  to  be  trusted 
in     determining     magnitude, 
155 
Sewing-machine,  282-294 
Shide  earthquake  station,  340 
Sholes,  Latham,  and  the  typewriter, 

306 
Siemans,   experiments  of,  on   heat, 

125 
Seismograph,  336-348 
Silkworm  disease,  363,  369 
Simpson,  Sir  James,  uses  ether  in 

childbirth,  382 
Skeletons  of  man  and  birds,  46 
lacking  in  deep-sea  life,  268 
Sleep,  as  helping  to  longevity,  403 
Smithsonian     Institution,     collects 

constant  numbers,  202 
Solar  system,  movement  of.  247 
Solar  engine  of  Ericsson,  274,  280 
Sores  made  by  radium,  87 
Soule,    Samuel   W.,   and   the  type- 
writer, 307 
Space,  measurement  of,  187,  et  seq. 
Species,  new,  produced  by  radium, 

100 
Speed,    necessity   of   in   navigating 

the  air,  44 
Spectroscope,  the,  238-249 
invented   (1802),  238 
described,  242,  243 
results  of  its  use,  243 
Spectrum,  dark  lines  of,  240,  241, 

244 
Spider    diaphragms,    Bettini's    im- 
provement on  phonographs,  8 
Spinthariscope  of  Sir  Wm.  Crookes, 

94 
Spontaneous  generation,  368 
Springs,  mineral,  radio-activity  of, 

101 
Standards  of  measurement.  177 
natural  system  of,  192 
mutations  of,  208 
Starch,  an  unsolved  problem,  140 
Stars,  methods  of  counting,  222 
numbers  of,  223,  227 
distribution  of,  224 
motion  of,  224,  247 
distances    of,    how    measured, 

225,  226 
the  nearest  stars,  226 
clusters  of,  229-231 
studied  by  a  spectroscope,  246 
double  stars,  247 
Steam  engine  and  ballooning,  25,  26 
turbine,  300-310,  350 


464 


INDEX 


Sternberg,  Dr.  G.  M.,  on  malaria, 

etc.,  418-432 
Stellar  universe  is  limited,  224 
Storm  indicator,  328-335  ' 
Sulphide    of    zinc,     influenced    by 

radium,  93 
Sun,  heat  of,  124 

proper  motion  of,  225 
the  central  orb  of  a  cluster,  230 
Sun's   energy,    utilization   of,   271- 
280 
the  amount  wasted,  275 

Tainter,  Chas.  Sumner,  associate  of 
A.  G.  Bell,  7 

Tartrate  of  lime,  fermentation  of, 
366 

Telegraphic  instrument,  devised  by 
Edison,  3 

Telephone,  Edison's  work  on,  3,  4 

Telescope  invented  (1608),  238 

Telescope,     improved    by    Herschel 
and  Dollond,  222 

Temperatures,  effect  of  extremes  on 
man,  102 
of  the  air,  102,  124 

Tesla,  high  voltages  of,  132 

Thermometer  of  Travers  and  Jac- 
querod,  107,  108 
self-registering,  252 

Thilorier,   experiments  on  liquefac- 
tion of  gases,  105 

Thompson,    J.    A.,    on   Louis    Pas- 
teur, 361 

Throat,  mechanism  of,  2 

Tidal  power,  possibilities  of,  274 

Time,    various   definitions    of,    182, 
183 

"  Tinny  "    sounds    in    phonographs, 
how  caused,  8 

Tommasina's     wireless     telephone, 
328-335 

Torricelli  demonstrates  the  weight 
of  air,  20 

Travers,    W,,    experiments    of    on 
gases,  109,  110 

Trigonometrical  tables,  203 

Tripler,    Chas.    E.,    liquid   air   ma- 
chine of,  112,  et  seq. 

Trov  weight,  210 

Turbine,  steam,  309-319,  .3.50 

Tycho    Brahe,    attempts    of    at   ex- 
actness, 151 

Tyndall,  on  care  in  investigations, 
201,  202 

Type-setting  machine,  282,  302-305 

Typewriter,  282,  305-307 

Unbearable,   the,   heard   by   phono- 
graph, 11 
Unit  of  mass,  191,  192 
Units,  arbitrary,  182 


and  standards  of  measurement. 

181-207 
derivative,  195 
Universe,  man's  place  in,  219-237 
Unsolved    problems    of    chemistry, 
136-149 
problems,  349^ 
Unstable   equilibrium,  not   existent 

in  nature,  154    ■ 
Ursa  Major,  motion  of,  224 
Utilizing  the  sun's  energy,  271-280 

Vaccination,  importance  of,  443 
Valentine  and  Tomlinson,  quoted,  18 
Velocity,  measurement  of,  195 
Vinci,   Leonardo   da,   on   fljang-ma- 

chines,  18 
Vocalists   and   actors,   employed  to 

make  records,  10 
Volta  prize  conferred  on  Alex.  Gra- 
ham Bell,  7 
on  Faraday,  7 
Volume,  unit  of,  195 
Vrobleffski    and    Olzeffski,    experi- 
ments of,  on  gases,  107 

Wallace,  Alfred  Russell,  on  man's 
place  in  the  universe,  219- 
237 

Walpole,  Horace,  comments  of  on 
ballooning,  21,  22 

Warmth,  as  helping  to  longevity, 
404 

Warren,  Arthur,  on  the  steam  tur- 
bine, 309-319 

Warren,  Dr.  J.  C,  and  anaesthet- 
ics, 378,  382 

Waste  products  of  nature,  358 

Water,  an  unsolved  chemical  prob- 
lem, 148,  149 

Water  power,   importance  of,   272, 
273,  279 
utilization  of,  354 

Weights,  determination  of,  179 

and  measures,  origin  of  stand- 
ards of,  208 

Wells,  Horace,  and  anaesthetics, 
377,  378,  380,  384 

Wells,  H.  G.,  on  balancing  a  flying- 
machine,   38 

Whirling  table  of  Langley,  36,  41- 
43 

Whitney,  Eli,  inventor  of  the  cot- 
ton-gin, 283-287 

Wilhite,  Dr.,  and  ether.  379,  380 

Williamson,  A.  W.,  standards  for 
chemical  measurements,  195 

Wind,  irregularities  of,  57 

Wind  power,  importance  of,  273, 
279 

Wing  of  soaring  bird,  45,  47 

Wireless  telegraphy,  354 


INDEX  465 

Wollaston's    exp'iments    on"  light,       Yard,  the,  use  of  by  Anglo-Saxons, 

240  209 

Wonder-working  inventions,  281-      Yost,  G,  W.  N.,  and  the  typewriter, 

308  307 
Wood-paper,  nare  of,  140 

Work,  446  Zeppelin,  Count,  experiments  of,  66 


X  rays,  355 


Zero,  absolute,  102,  104 


NOV  19  1904 


=  ^-..<^^ 


^-.^^' 


:   '^^0^ 


^ 


f  ^  \-^^^^ 


%.^^ 


.*  ^^. 


^'J°^  °- 


^ 


.^        /       -- 


0  ,  X         X  r  „   X  *  0  ^    ^  \>      ^  ^  '^  0  ^       ^ 

o 


^\^^' 


'i\\^^' 


\  ^^ 


<> 


rP^,s 


^^  0^      ; 


^     ^^0^ 


^<?^ 


iC^,\%^ 


.0^ 


■^^  .r^ 


.^ 


^^  ^^. 


J  «  *, 


o^"\» 


".    ^-f. 


.%  ^. 


■^AO^ 


.%«^ 


\.  .0.^   ."^Wa."- ■•^<-.  ,^ 


"^c^^"^ 


,1  z 


-%.#^ 


i>'% 


Ivy  - 


V      ^  ^  *  0  /^ 


V    *   0 


\.^"y 


^^'^W.^\c^^    ^<^;,«^/  ^<^;.W.\c/  -^^^  v^-- 


V     ^  ^  *  0 


^%^^''  : 


.^  .' 


«5  <3f. 


■^^d< 


UBRABV,OF_,CO£S 


0  030  0007016